


Mister Zero

by EllySketchit



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Band Fic, Bisexual Male Character, British Character, Canon Bisexual Character, Celebrities, Emo Character, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, Japanese Character(s), Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Rock Band, Rock Stars, Rough Sex, Sex, Sounding, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-03 17:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 126,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllySketchit/pseuds/EllySketchit
Summary: Original "Rock Band" trope-filled series of mine.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Really sorry this isn't formatted exactly right - it's being posted from mashed up bits I saved. Long story short it's all here now though!

"We need a bigger bus," Surlaw grumped. He was slouched in a duct-taped seat near the back by their equipment, one hand resting idly on the neck of his guitar. Their singer sat on the seat across from him, her legs folded under her. This gave her the odd appearance of having no lower body since she was wearing a very puffy skirt decorated with skulls and crossbones. Surlaw idly wished he could see her legs. The knees were dimpled, quite pretty actually - and he could use a bit of distraction on these horribly long rides to their next gig. He yawned, being careful to set his instrument back in the case before stretching.

The band's drummer shrugged. "It works," he said shortly.

"It smells like feet," the pale guitarist objected further. His voice was thick with his British accent in his disapproval. He pulled his faded hat lower over his eyes and groaned when the girl giggled.

"Open a window," the last member of their band suggested mildly. She was the bass player, a dark-haired lady that wore tight-fitting clothing and thigh-high boots. She raised a thin eyebrow and motioned with one hand. "I'll be up front for a bit." Elly smiled at and shifted her legs under her skirt.

"Yeah, keep an eye on that ass, Robin. I don't think he knows where we're supposed to be going." She rolled her eyes and they all snorted laughter.

"Our bass player is hot," the drummer grinned as he watched her walk off. He was new to the band, an odd fellow that wore thick, runny face makeup and ragged clothing to their bookings. She couldn't remember his name - it took her awhile before she placed names with people -- but it was something weird like a nickname or something.

"I wouldn't know," she said sourly. "I'm straight." Surlaw burst out laughing even harder at this and the other man, grinning, gave them both the finger.

"Quit that, Joker, or I'm gonna tell Elly here your real name."

Elly raised an eyebrow. "I forgot again," she whispered confidentially.

"Ah, fuck you. I'm gonna go see where she's at." Joker scratched at his neck as he ambled back up the way she had gone, smearing the blurry makeup even more. The old bed sheet they'd hung as a partition flapped as he pushed it open and then disappeared.

"Well? How hot is she?" Elly snorted and got up, stretching her legs and grimacing down at her boots. She hadn't changed after their last gig because she'd wanted to shower and now she regretted it. The fuzzy clydesdale boots were too hot and her skirt was restrictive. She wanted soft pants and a loose shirt, not her stage wear.

Surlaw was wearing what he wore when they performed as well. Not only did he have his hat and circular shades on, he still wore the leather gloves he strummed with. His white shirt was partially open, showing skin that was as pale and hairless as her own through the paisley ruffled jacket. As always she wondered what it was like to wear the heavy thing; there were a million gold buttons and loops on it. Nothing like wearing something like a strait jacket to a performance... although she knew guys and girls that did just that!

Wait, he was saying something. She shook herself back to reality.

"She's good looking," he mentioned in an offhand way. "Her outfit on stage is a bit slutty, though," he added in an undertone. Elly bit her lip, trying not to laugh. The girl was a good player but he was right about that - she showed way too much cleavage. It was if she was trying to upstage the original female member, and Elly didn't care for that. The two of them had founded the band and the others had joined in later after a few others had filled in now and then. These latest had stayed the longest. But Surlaw and Elly had been around from day one. They knew each other better though they tried not to be secretive or clannish. The band had to be a team and work as a whole and sometimes that meant a few sly comments to ease tensions. There was nothing like being around the four same goddamn people day in and day out.

The bus suddenly hit a bump in the road and Elly swore violently as she pinwheeled forward, her lavender side locks swinging forward and obscuring her vision. Her hands shot out to grab the seat but there were other hands around her waist first. She blinked.

"Ah, crap." He had leaned forward, hands easily catching her around the waist and preventing her from falling forward. She was caught in midair, half raised as if she had been diving at the pale man in front of her.

"Klutz," he snickered.

"Shut up." She wriggled but found he didn't release his grip. Frowning a little Elly looked down at his face to see him eyeing her through those dark sunglasses her wore. His eyes were hooded, his expression... strange. She realized what it was right before he pulled her forward instead of helping her back onto her seat and gave him a quizzical stare right back.

"Well?" He carefully set her on his lap, grinning in an 'aw, shucks' sort of way. "Isn't that what the mags all say about us?"'

"You want to give them more fodder, idiot?" She laughed though. This close up he was warm and smelled good. He only used Brut cologne, nothing fancy - something else the magazines ragged on him about -- but it was his scent. Familiar and musky.

"Fuck 'em." He pulled tighter and she was aware that he was tilting his head up for a kiss. She bent down, meeting him halfway and was pleasantly surprised to feel a little thrill of excitement when their lips met. She'd never thought of him that way... oh, she'd glanced at him coming out of a dressing room with a towel around his waist and thought he looked well made, even if his stomach wasn't flat as a pancake (hers wasn't by any means either). But to make a physical move? She was yanked out of her train of thought by a gloved hand sliding up her leg. She gasped and was rewarded by a quick dip of his tongue inside her mouth, lingering as if he was asking permission for a deeper kiss. Elly responded by pressing her hands to his cheeks, petting his hairy sideburns - they were his trademark, she could never imagine him without them. They were smoother and silkier than she'd imagined.

The slight pause lasted only a moment before his hand moved again and their kiss grew more passionate. Elly started to squirm and he chuckled into her mouth.

"Quit," she hissed. "If they see us we'll never live it down." She drew back, breathing heavily then changed her mind a second later and kissed his cheek, slid down to his ear and nibbled. His light groan caused a ripple of nervous tension to flutter in her belly. Elly giggled wickedly. This was fun, she thought with excitement. She flicked a careful tongue tip at his lobe and was rewarded with a spastic squeeze on her leg.

"Live it down? I'm never gonna get it down," he groaned in reference to his bulging pants.

"You wanted this."

"I didn't know you were gonna cheat, whore," he teased.

"Bite me," she grumbled.

"Hey, now," he panted softly, "if you wanna be that way..." And she froze in shock when his teeth sank into the tender flesh of her neck.

"You can't do that! Everyone'll see!"

"So what?" Muffled. "Don't tell me to do something. I'll do it." He proceeded to bite down harder now, and she slapped at his hat. The fedora pushed back as he pressed forward, getting a good hold and sucking lightly.

"Quit it!" It hurt but in a good way and it wasn't the pain she was worried about. It was about showing up to some new gig and having the fans all talk about this hickey she had on her neck. Damn it.

"Hey guys, we're almost to the hotel and ..."

"Crap!" Elly threw her hands around his neck for purchase as he jerked guiltily around to face their stunned drummer. The young man stood there with one hand pressed to his mouth and his eyes wide, taking in the scene before him.

She winced. Oh, man... she knew it looked bad. She was sprawled on Surlaw's lap, puff skirt riding up and showing quite a bit of leg. His gloved hand rested higher up on her thigh than propriety's sake allowed while his other clutched the back of the seat for purchase. His worn fedora was pushed to one side and his trendy round 60's shades were askew. Besides that there were a visible smears of lipstick on his mouth and neck and his face had been buried in her throat. He blinked at the shocked young man and then grinned sheepishly, a slow blush burning his face from bushy sideburn to sideburn.

"Told you we need a bigger bus."


	2. Chapter Two

He couldn't take his eyes off of her, especially when she sang.

They had started to swing closer and closer together even on stage; it was noticeable to the fans and critics now. They sang together, Elly leaning over to hold the mic towards him while he was playing. Most people thought it was romantic. Others disagreed, saying it was unprofessional. Hardcore fans - mostly the ones with crushes on either the singer or guitarist -- went so far as to say it was "disgusting" and hoped they would break up. They got hate mail, sure enough, but the amount had lessened since they started the band. Like previously mentioned, most fans had been hoping they would get together and were thrilled to see the actual sparks of a real relationship crackling on stage as well as off. And oddly enough instead of bringing the band further apart it had made them more of a team. The bassist and drummer were younger than the fledgling couple and they seemed content to view them as a cooler mom and dad that they hung with and took advice from.

Weird how things worked out... except they hadn't yet.

Their relationship was tenuous at best. Neither wanted to pass the final line into "coupleship". They'd made out a few times and Elly would lean over and touch him lightly on the wrist now and then, fleeting brushes that looked innocent but were devastating to them both. Surlaw went out of his way to stand by her side at events and they were seen together more than they had been before. When making out they never passed an unspoken line. No one ever reached inside another's clothing, for instance, or even touched below the belt. This had hit Surlaw harder than Elly but he was man enough to deal with it. There was always a bathroom or someplace nearby where he could handle the situation and come back without tangible evidence of their interrupted play.

It was wildly irritating, highly unsatisfying and way too much fun.

"All right!" Joker was wiping face paint off in the back of their van, hooting with exhilaration after their latest gig. "I'm gonna hit that bar by the resort so hard they won't know what got 'em."

"All right, knock that off," Robin sighed in resignation. "You're flinging that stuff all over the seats here."

"This is going to be so great!" Elly was almost bouncing with excitement. The suites they'd been promised had indoor hot tubs and all sorts of goodies they weren't used to. It had been part of their negotiated pay. Surlaw was the only one not saying anything. He sat with his worn fedora pulled low over his eyes. A fuzzy snore was emanating from someplace in his general vicinity. His head came up when the bus creaked to a halt in the parking lot, though. The moon shone through the clouds as the girls looked out at the imposing hotel, lighting up the area before the door and making it seem like some fantasy castle.

"It's amazing," Robin murmured.

"We there?" Surlaw yawned and snorted when Elly pushed past him in her glee. "Watch it, you can't check in until we're all unpacked anyway."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." She flicked the hem of her skirt out in a charming little flirt before disappearing out the door. And, amazing as the place was there was a small problem about the rooms...

"There's only three rooms booked for us?!" Robin looked around in dismay. Two would have been fine, they could have split the girls and guys up. But three was just a hassle. And from the confused look on the check-in clerk's face, he'd obviously thought there wouldn't be a problem.

"It's our busy season, we can't spare any of the rooms we have... we're booked," he mourned. Already he could see his job flashing before his eyes. Surlaw stepped forward and placed a gloved hand on the counter before anyone could say anything else.

"We'll take the three, don't worry man."

"But..!" Elly and Robin stared at him. Julian was off checking out the waterfall in the central plaza, he didn't even know about the problem. The guitarist took the key cards and handed them out.

"Where is that guy - hey, Julie! Your card, ass!" He flipped it at him and the other caught it deftly.

"Sweet!" He crowed. He palmed it and then fanned it out again like a playing card, his eyes sly. They all paused for a moment and Robin glanced at her card.

"344?"

"346," Julian called out. He grinned.

"350," Elly read off her card. Her face went straight to purple instead of wasting time with red when she saw Surlaw was carrying her overnight bag in his hand as well as his own.

"Well, shall we go?" He grinned impudently at her and strode quickly towards the elevator. They all had to rush to keep up and managed to pack inside at the last minute, half-swearing, half-laughing at him and calling him names he amiably returned.

The room was so beautiful.

She felt like an idiot gaping at the vaulted ceiling, the delicate crystal chandelier hanging from the center, sparkling like diamonds. No matter how pretty the room was, however, her attention was firmly fixed on the ultimate luxury of the steaming hot tub as soon as she found it. Whooping like a teenager she grabbed her bag from Surlaw's hand and started pawing through it for her bikini.

"Get changed and we'll go soak. I'll go change in the bathroom..." she flounced around for a second looking for it. "...here!" Surlaw stood blinking after her and then realized he had to dress fast. He yanked out a pair of black and paisley patterned swim trunks, stripping as quickly as he could with his other hand. The buttons and frills on his Beatles-era jacket hindered him for awhile but he managed to get it off faster than he usually did and toss it neatly over a chair. He was ready before she was so he wandered over to the hot tub and dipped an experimental toe into the steaming water. Sighing, he stepped in and sank up to his neck.

"There's champagne? Hey, good damned deal," he whispered. Rising quickly and ignoring the sudden chill he poured two glasses and then waited, holding hers for when she came out. When she showed up he nearly dropped the glass, his dark brown eyes widening. He'd never seen her in anything but regular clothing. The girls were very adamant about that, even on the road and living with each other, sometimes changing in the back of the bus for shows he'd never caught a glimpse of anything other than some creamy white thigh.

Of course he'd peeked. Well, a little, anyway.

Elly stood happily in the doorway wearing a black bikini with jolly rogers on it. He noticed that if she had any choice in the matter she picked little skulls and crossbones on her clothing. It was tied at the hips and was obviously not meant for swimming but for show. She didn't like tanning and was very white all over, her skin almost seeming to glow in the moonlit night. The water rippled as she stepped in and he held out her glass.

"This is wonderful," she murmured, quieter now that they were outside. There were other balconies and the faint sounds of laughter and talking wafted by on the slightly cool spring breeze. Surlaw grunted. The air ruffled his hair and sideburns alike and he tilted his head back, sighing as he relaxed completely.

"It's nice," he agreed. He'd had some sore muscles from whaling his leg a pretty good one on an amp earlier that night but now everything seemed to be better. He yawned bone-crackingly and set his empty glass back in the bucket's holder. "So," he grinned impishly. "What about the sleeping arrangements?" Surlaw pantomimed laying on his side. "I'm good if I lay like this..." he motioned behind himself, "and you spoon up right here."

"Like this?" He made a small noise that sounded like a small dog choking as she joined him where he had indicated, close by his side.

"Yerk!"

"Oh, you should see your face," she giggled. "Did you think I wouldn't take you up on it? We have this whole room to ourselves and I don't think it's coincidence." He gargled faintly. Her mostly nude body was slick with water and rubbing against him in some very interesting ways. He bit his lip when she draped a leg across his lap under the warm water.

"Ow, dammit." His finger pad didn't come away bloody but he'd surprised himself.

"Serves you right," she said, taking his hand by the wrist and pulling it around her shoulders. "The biter bit at last - by himself, that's the best part." She chuckled.

"Don't start," he warned, feeling more at ease since their banter hadn't let up. He dropped his hand and boldly let it slide up her back to the ties at the sides of her bikini top.

"I didn't start anything, if I remember correctly." Elly tucked the long locks of purple hair that swept down her cheeks back behind her ears and riffled his sideburns. "Be a good boy tonight and maybe you won't sleep alone, then?"

"Huh." Surlaw raised an innocent eyebrow at her and pulled experimentally at her bikini. "I am not good and I am not a boy." His voice was low and vibrated in a little growl. Her teeth glinted in the waning light as she grinned fiercely.

"Then you're a very evil man and I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Depends." He toyed with the string that held her top in place, eyeing her calmly. He was completely in control of himself on the outside. Inside his was squirming, muscles tensing and full of that nervous butterfly feeling. She met his gaze with a twinkle in her dark purple eyes and the tiniest bit of a quirk to her lips. "Dare me," he murmured.

"Do I have to?" She reached across his bare chest to tug at him, indicating she wanted him closer. He carefully braced himself over the little ledge, his knees on the hot tub seat and his arms holding himself steady above. Steam rose from his skin as well as the water as it trickled down his arms and upper chest. Her arms slid around his waist then up his back, feeling bare skin for the first time and liking it. Surlaw dipped his head to hers and kissed her lingeringly. Time passed and after a few minutes he sighed and backed away.

"Damn knees," he groaned.

"I forgot," Elly gasped with sudden concern. "This isn't really that comfortable for you, is it?" He gave her a flat 'no shit' look that caused her to stifle a wild burst of laughter. Palm crammed to her mouth, she waved a hand in the direction of the room and he nodded, then paused, thinking. "What?"

"Nothing." He slid his hands under her and lifted the woman's body easily into his arms. Water poured into the tub and she uttered a girly squeal that caused her to grimace.

"Oh that was great."

"You should kick a little, too," Surlaw leered at her suggestively. "Make me feel like I'm some sort of sex offender. That's hot."

"You ass." She thwapped him on the chest and he laughed. There was a knock on the door just then, and he made a face as he veered over to answer it. He never assumed who would be on the other side ever again.

"What!" Elly threw up her hands when she saw a stranger with a camera. They both blinked as the ultra-bright flashbulb went off. The flash was followed by the yell of a security guard and scrambled retreat of the paparazzi. Nonplussed, they watched, dripping, as the noise and confusion brought the rest of the people outside to stare, their own band members included. Surlaw sighed.

"Want to get dressed and get some coffee, then?"

"Yeah."

And so they always wanted each other, needed each other. But they never got to consummate their tenuous relationship. The desire needled them day and night, especially since they slept in the same travel bus and worked so closely together. They were always together but never like they wanted to be, and the strain caused them to get very, very creative. A few nights later they were settled in at another hotel, playing this time where they slept. This hotel was even larger than the other and had a large stage.

"Tell them they've got ten," someone called to the stage hand who was trying not to stare at the band's bassist. Mister Zero was playing there tonight! He was a huge fan and wanted to see the infamous couple that had suddenly found themselves slapped on all the rock rags. He hurried down the smoky hall to the singer's room and then froze.

This was it, but...

The fevered sound of panting could be heard from within the dressing room if one laid their ear to the door. A well-modulated female voice and a husky man's purred back and forth at each other.

"There." Suspicious sound of kissing; yes, it had to be that. It was too moist and breathy to be anything else, besides, there were softer than soft moans mixed in. Cloth ruffled, and that faint swish sounded like a zipper.

"Oh, wait, wait..." Someone gasped hoarsely, sounded like the man. "Shit. It's almost stage time."

"Just a second. Did you muss me?" There was muffled laughter from both of them, presumably as he pointed out the "mussing".

"Put your gloves back on."

"Yes, ma'am!" The stage hand leaped back, losing control and landing right on his ass on the floor as the door opened suddenly and Surlaw stepped out. He raised an eyebrow at the guilty looking man and then sighed, covering his eyes with a leather-encased hand.

"What the hell, you're in my way." Elly peered out behind him, purple sidelocks swinging as she craned her neck. "Oh, crap. Not again."

"I told you we should have stayed on the bus."

"And get dressed in that thing? These rooms are always more comfortable." She pushed past him, stepping around the sheepish man who finally blurted out how many minutes it was before opening.

"Would you have told us if we hadn't gotten there in time?" Surlaw snickered he saw the poor guy's face. He waved aside the stammered apology and then pointed towards Elly's back, her puff skirt swinging dangerously as she strode towards the stage. "It's her you should watch. She's gettin' kinda fangy about shit like this." He winked at the startled stage hand and then ambled off, hands flexing in his eagerness to hold his guitar, since he couldn't hold what he wanted right then.

Ah, but wasn't that always the way.

She needed him. She was what all the crappy romance novels always read; was nothing without him, craved his touch, smile and kiss, woke every morning with his face in her thoughts and lived each day with a happy glow from being near him.

It was sickening.

It was so utterly typecast and trite.

It was also undeniably and irrevocably true.

She took a deep breath.

I love him. There, it was out. Was that all she needed to admit to herself to make the burn and ache in her chest go away? Wasn't that how it worked? She wondered idly if he loved her as well. It didn't seem to matter, somehow. If this might be 'the big one', real love, true love. He was popular with the ladies. Apart from being in a successful rock band Surlaw was handsome (she knew she was biased but the attention of other females convinced her many others thought the same way). He was different but he didn't try to be, he just was. Her man stood apart from the crowd when most others were wearing ripped jean jackets and trying to fit into a stereotype of "cool" that they could never pull off. Her love - she could say that, now -- somehow managed to do that in his garish seventies' clothes, daubed with paisley and ruffles, gold buttons and baubles. To top this look off he had a mop of unruly brown hair and huge mutton chops that bristled and seemed to have a life of their own.

This didn't bother her. She never worried that he would be tempted or led away by some whorish fan. Never doubting he'd always be there for her. True, they'd been friends before they became dubious lovers and perhaps that was why she felt so comfortable with him. She idly let her hands wander over the top of the bus seat in front of her, staring at the cracked material.

Part of the problem was his hands.

His long-fingered, leather-gloved hands. She sighed and lifted her head to watch him at last.

There was something special about them, she mused as she sat on the lumpy bus seat, watching him pick restlessly at the strings of his old guitar. It was the one he used for fooling around with, not his stage instrument, of course, and he handled it with a tenderness that made her shiver. Every other part of his body was nice, but his hands made her weak when she watched them. Surlaw easily picked up on her mood and ran his fingers along, filling the back of the bus with low sultry chords.

"Oh, really?" She murmured. A ripple of amusement sounded - from the guitar, not the man -- and she quirked a smile. "And where can we go? You know we don't ever have any privacy." This time she burst out laughing when the strings sadly struck a minor key. When she glanced up his face was comically forlorn.

"Bloody well driving me insane, too," he groaned. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair. His dark fedora wasn't on his head for once though, it was resting on his knee. "I don't suppose they'll stop for lunch, will they?" He still sported his peace and love 'shades and his eyes glinted from behind the dark sunglasses. He had an idea.

"What was that?"

"Wait, the bus is stopping." He held up a hand as the partition opened and Robin's head poked through.

"Julian said he wanted to eat," she said shortly, jerking a thumb out the window. Surlaw raised his head and smiled. There was a cheesy roadside diner out there, the kind that screamed bathroom regret. He shook his head.

"You go, we'll stay here." Robin grinned at Elly and nodded, walking back towards the front where they heard the drummer yelling something about burgers and beer - lots and lots of them.

"Finally!" Surlaw rolled his eyes and quickly placed the old guitar back in its worn leather case.

"Are we actually alone?" Her dark eyes were dancing with excitement. He set the case aside and held out his arms.

"Hell yeah!" He laughed when she literally threw herself into his embrace. They held each other tight, sharing short, quick, open-mouthed kisses.

"So little time," she panted in his ear.

"We have a half an hour at least," he estimated. "You know how he likes to enjoy his food."

"You hope," Elly whimpered as Surlaw's hands found the back of her bra under the loose t-shirt she wore. "You didn't even take the gloves off," she giggled.

"No time," he chuckled jokingly. He stopped to peel off the leather, flinging them on the seat beside them. "You want to go to the alcove?" It was the little area where the band napped if they had to while on the road. There were pull out beds in sections along the wall. She nodded and he took her by the wrist, tugging ever so slightly in his impatience. When they reached the little curtained-off section he pulled quickly, hands grasping her back as she fell against him. Her hands stopped him before their lips met, fingers deftly twitching off his sunglasses and depositing them on a nearby table. She pushed him backwards onto the one cot that was open and grinned when he stumbled onto it, eyes wide and arms flailing.

"Oh that's cute."

"Crap!" The little bed creaked alarmingly and he huffed in exasperation. His eyes narrowed and she squeaked as he hooked a long leg around her own, tangling them up and causing her to crash down on top of his willing body. "Ah, that's better." He wasted no more words but thrust those able hands under her top again to tease her warm, sweet-scented skin. Surlaw groaned. He smelled lavender - it was all she would wear -- mixed with his aftershave and the common Brut cologne he always daubed on his neck in the morning. The mixture combined was a maddening, heady scent that filled the little sleeping area like some sort of sexual gas. He snickered.

Sex gas. That was a good one. Might be trendy-stupid enough for a good song title.

"What're you laughing at now?" Elly raised her head from where she had been grazing on his neck.

"Nothing. Here..." He pushed the flat of his hand down his corduroy pants and began tugging at the zipper. She had to smother her burning face in the crook of his arm, trembling all over and trying not laugh for some strange reason.

"Get right to it, huh?"

"I don't want to get interrupted again!" He flung his hands aside, pulling a bitter face. "Yeah, I know. Slower. But I'll scream if I have to force myself..." He faltered but then snorted and rushed on. "...into second gear on short notice again. It's getting damned painful." She had been doing something off to the side and he craned his neck, trying to see what she had in her hand now.

"Oh, sit still." He gulped loudly and rolled his head back, throat working as he tried to bring himself under some sort of control. A cool hand had slipped into his pants and was rubbing him gently. He was struggling not to think what it would feel like when she touched flesh. He wasn't sure if he could hold back an unmanly cry. He sweated and writhed until her fingers poked through the flap of his boxers and then he did force a strangled syllable past his dry lips.

"Please." The hands she craved were all over her, making her hot, making her weak, making her want him. The pale young man slipped his tongue out to wet his lips and spoke louder with an apparent effort. "I want it so much."

"I know. Me too." She closed her teeth gently on his lower lip and he grumbled a little. She felt his hands grip lower and hook in the waistband of the sweatpants she was wearing. They were easily pulled down and she shivered with cold as the air hit her exposed lower body. "Not..."

"No, I don't have any condoms nearby," he admitted. "Too close. Don't stop." Her hand had brought his flushed member partially out of the swatch of crumpled pants and boxers and she was lightly flogging him, finding the rhythm and pressure he liked and filing the information away for future reference.

"Surlaw." Her palm squeezed once, uncontrollably, as he busily rubbed on her open sex. She was dripping with excitement and he was finding it difficult to not beg for him without protection. He knew he couldn't get up and reach for the prophylactics without reaching his own conclusion... and she was so close and warm and obviously ready for him. On Elly's side it had stimulated her to no end that they were still touching each other with most of their clothing on, illicit desire in the small cabin-like area when their band mates could come back any moment. She gasped and doubled over his thrashing form on the cot, trying to stifle her cries as he started an especially delicious rubbing motion that rolled over her clit. It was just enough. She came as he did, both of them striving to be quiet as they shook all over each other. Surlaw even had enough prescence of mind to use his loose boxers to catch the flow of semen as it shot out of him in several thick lines. His teeth clacked and he realized he had been gasping for air, mouth gaping wide open.

"Uh." She leaped off him and reached aside for some tissues to clean up as he stumbled to the bathroom nearby, trying to hold the fabric in such a way that the puddle of viscious fluid didn't trickle off.

"Oh, holy shit," she wheezed. For some reason he found that uncommonly funny and he had to bite his hand to hold back a fit of laughter. Unfortunately that meant he dropped a hand and he stared down in dismay at his pants, shaking his head. Great, now that's not too obvious, he thought to himself sourly. Now he had to change pants. But before he could ask her for a pair or come out himself to get one Elly was waving frantically at him. "Julie and Robin are coming back," she hissed as she pushed him the rest of the way inside and closed the door. She had managed to get herself put together again and was smiling when they walked back inside the living area.

It was twenty minutes later when Robin frowned and asked where their guitarist was. Elly's smile felt pasted on as she tried to act casual.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him in awhile." She grinned apologetically, as if sorry she couldn't be of any more help. Julie burped. He'd put away so many burgers that he was sated for now, leaning back in a chair and stretching. He'd probably take a nap later. He waved a hand around.

"Bathroom door's closed, he's probably takin' a ..." Their drummer broke off as the door swung open and Surlaw peered around the door jamb. There was an awkward silence for several moments as both bass player and drummer stared first at him... and then the singer who stood biting her lip like a child who'd been caught stealing candy or cookies while the parents had been away.

A full minute ticked by and then Surlaw sighed, hand dropping in defeat.

"Will somebody please go get me a spare pair of pants?" He asked flatly. "I'm freezing."


	3. Chapter Three

They settled somewhat in California after some hard travelling. Where else for a fledgling rock band? There were always good gigs and they were getting more recognition every day. Like now, for instance, as they played at a popular club with a full house. The lights were blinding like they always were and hot onstage, the crowd loud, the amps deafening. Smoke and steam drifted respectively about her feet and head. Everything was familiar to her but the sounds.

Elly could play a guitar fairly well but she rarely picked one up lately, preferring to sing instead. Now her fingers walked across the fret bringing out harmony to Robin's accompaniment and she was trying not to be hypnotized by the voice drawing out lyrics in her usual place.

Surlaw was singing.

They swapped places occasionally; this wasn't new. But his choice of songs was insane. She could concentrate only through her sense of professionalism - they had practiced this plenty of times before the gig and she knew it by heart. But his voice was proclaiming romantic statements that caused her stomach to flutter in the heat of the moment. Onstage it was different, emotions sometimes took over. He sang differently as well, emotions coming through and causing the fans below to pick up on the thrumming intent, loving it, wanting more.

He paused during a vocal break and dropped his head, grinning. Moving deliberately so everyone saw him he turned to the lavender-haired woman, stretching out an arm and opening his palm. The crowd went wild. Fans cheered like crazy, some of the younger girls wailing with emotional overload. They wept, clinging to each other in teenage hormonal ecstasy as he gestured simply towards her while singing.

It made the headline of most of the local magazines, cell phone pictures that were smeary and grainy plastered across cheap pulp proclaiming the "latest" evidence of their relationship.To make matters worse, Surlaw acted blithely ignorant of that night. He never brought it up and she was too shy to try. It had seemed so very personal, more so than the intimate release they had shared together a while back in the van. It would ruin the moment if she asked, 'do you really mean that...'?

A week or so passed and they'd been pressed to do more romantic pieces but they'd put all other avenues off until now. Elly had gone out for coffee since it was late but they had felt it was good to be alone in the building and get more done by themselves. Surlaw yawned, stretching in his uncomfortable plastic chair. He waved Robin and Julian aside.

"Can you go back to the bus and get the better guitars? I'd like to see how that one piece sounds with the stage instruments." The two agreed, smiling faintly. They were gone before Elly came back with four coffee cups cradled in their cardboard nest.

"Hey," he said softly, taking the cups from her and setting them aside on a table.

"Where did everyone go?"

"I sent them away." He took her arm. "Listen, could we talk about something?"

"Sure." She took a calming breath and nodded. "What's up?" He held her gaze for a moment with his dark green eyes and then smiled.

"You look nervous."

"I'm not! Geez, I'm just tired. And besides," she added, "I couldn't be scared of you."

"That's good to know." He ran a hand through his messy brown hair and reached behind him for his fedora. She stopped him wiith an impatient grumble.

"Quit that, talk to me. What? Is it the new set?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Listen." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth. "It's music," he murmured.

"Poetic," she whispered, blushing a bit across her cheeks. "But was this about seducing me when our bandmates are coming back down the hall... or the set list?"

"We've been getting the biggest turnouts lately because of that." He lightly pressed a finger to her lips. "They come for the tension but they stay because we fucking rock."

"That's right we do," Julian pumped a fist in the air and held out the guitar he'd been sent for. "I don't think you wanted this, boss man, but hey. Here it is."

"I think he's right," Robin ventured with a smile. Elly slapped a hand over her face, blushing harder. "It's not a cheap trick, Elly," she told her seriously. "Not like naming the band 'free food' or anything like that. They like us after they've heard us. Otherwise they wouldn't stick around or buy our music."

"Wait. You're all saying we should feed them this ... fairy tale romance crap?" Surlaw affected a hurt expression.

"It's not? I thought I was your knight in shining armor." He grinned and ducked when she slapped at his chest. "My paisley deflects your attack!" He yelled triumphantly.

"Knight? More like the big bad wolf," Elly quipped. Robin slipped her guitar into her hands and strummed a quick bass line for 'Little Red Riding Hood'. They all laughed.

"Try it," he urged. "Just once in awhile. We can sing together, duet, maybe. People love that kind of thing."

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm being cleverly manipulated?" She grimaced faintly, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. "Ohhh, no you don't!" This last was delivered at Surlaw, who had swept her into his arms and dipped her low to the ground.

"You guys!" She twisted around incredulously when she heard their band mates accompanying him. Surlaw's eye gleamed wickedly.

"You're outnumbered, luv," he told her firmly, using a term of endearment for the first time since they had sought each other's company in that special way. He kissed her again to make sure that his point had gotten across and she beat at his back with her fists, shaking with good humor.

"Okay okay! I give up! Your horrible British accent drives me insane anyway. It's perfect for singing."

"Excellent," he purred. "Then let's get back to some real work."

"Uh, actually, it's time for a break." Julian grinned widely at them both and started laughing when Elly hung her head in utter defeat.

"How long we got?" Julian chuckled. "'Cause I'm hungry."

"Maybe like, an hour," Robin called out as she snapped the case on her bass closed. "You going to go eat someplace too, guys?"

"Nah, we scarfed at the table they set up. We're going to go take a walk." Surlaw winked at Elly.

"In all this heat?" Robin raised an eyebrow.

"Yep."

A quarter of an hour later Surlaw looked up inquisitively as someone poked him on the shoulder. He'd had his face buried in his pale girlfriend's neck and was stunned that anyone could interrupt them in their intimacy. He grinned sheepishly when he saw a piece of paper held out in front of the nervous couple facing them.

Autographs again.

"We can't even be alone in the make-out section of the park?" Elly sounded depressed after the embarrassed but obviously thrilled couple had left them. "We'd better get back to the van, Wolfy. They'll be all over us when they get back to their friends." Surlaw agreed, snorting a little at the nickname. She'd called him 'the big bad wolf' more than once and the name had stuck when the band had held a B-Movie Night. Damn those werewolf flicks! But it was cute. He agreed shortly and they packed up their things, leaving as fast as they could.

"Hmmm, maybe when we play overseas we can find some beach time," she sighed wearily when they got back. The van started up and they moved out onto the road that would lead them back to the highway. Joker and Robin were talking quietly in the back, giving them some time in the common area alone.

"One of those little straw huts close to the water?" Surlaw wrapped his arms comfortably around her waist from behind and rubbed his sideburns on her cheek. This never failed to elicit a giggle from Elly, who squealed and tried to hunch her shoulder over her neck.

"Quit, it tickles!"

"I know." He bent and nuzzled gently at her throat. "What about Hawaii? Since we're in Cali now it wouldn't be that bad. We could request a private cabin in one of those resorts. It's more money but it might be worth it."

"Might be?" She rolled her expressive eyes. "Thank god you suggested it. I don't look at the hotels anymore, I wouldn't have thought of it." She paused. "How 'private' are they?"

"Dunno, luv." He turned around and she heard paper rustling. "Here - it says they're completely isolated on a private beach." Surlaw walked around and sat by Elly's side, watching her as she eagerly snatched the flyer from his hand and read.

"Oooh, this looks great!"

"We can afford it if we pool our money. Want to?"

"Where's your cell!"

Oh, good times.

It had taken them a few weeks but they were now crossing the sands to their own little 'love shack', as he so aptly named it. This had caused much teasing and singing along the bus ride with their band mates but now it seemed perfect. They unlocked the door and gratefully stepped into the cooler air of the dark room.

"Are we really alone?" Elly peered cautiously out the tiny open window. The air smelled good, salty and it was warm and soothing. Surlaw stripped his gloves off, sighing contentedly. He looked around the room with its minimal furnishings. The bed was large and looked very inviting. The trip had been a long one after all.

"Fancy a bit of rest before dinner?" He snaked an arm around her middle and pulled her close, relishing, as always, the flowery scent of her hair.

"I'm tired." She slumped against him, already reaching for the gold buttons on his coat. "That would be nice. Surlaw, aren't you hot as hell in this jacket?"

"The things we endure to be stylish." He laughed and helped her slip the heavy material off, rolling his shoulders with a grimace of pleasure. "The paisley absorbs the heat."

"Don't start with the paisley again," she grumbled, pulling off her tank top.

"Never underestimate the power of the paisley," he said seriously, smiling. He quickly unbuttoned the frilled shirt he was wearing and let it slither to the floor with a huge sigh. "That's better." He cast his dark green eyes aside to watch appreciatively as she ambled to the bed in panties and a bra.

"Take off the boots and pants, ya Brit," she yawned. "I wanna cuddle."

"I don't sound that British anymore and you bl- you know it." He blew a raspberry at her when she snickered at his choice of words.

"I do 'bloody well know it'," she giggled sleepily. "Shh, anyway, it's sexy. But get over here."

"Yes, ma'am," he snapped a salute as he dropped his pants. The effect was so comical that she rolled over on the soft sheets, wheezing laughter.

"No more, I'm too tired..."

"I know, poor thing." He joined her with much creaking and soon had her nestled comfortably in the crook of his arm. A strand of hair blew across her nose and she twitched slightly. He reached out with his free hand and brushed it away. "Better?"

"Mmhmm." She looked so sweet with her eyes closed, he thought. His body was spent, tired from the journey and playing earlier that day in some road stop for kicks. But he couldn't resist placing a hand over her breast and cupping, smiling lazily when she softly moaned.

"N'fair," she husked lowly. "Th'we're gonna sleep."

"I made no such promise," he reminded her, pinching the hardened nipple annd rolling it in his fingers. "I just suggested some rest. We're resting, right?"

"Surlaw..."

"No, wait, I haven't gotten started yet." He shifted, moving closer and partially atop her on the bed. "Don't move, just relax. This is for you, not me."

"B..."

"No buts, luv." He pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off her soft protests. His hand had popped her bra open and he moved the fabric aside to finally gaze at her pale breasts. "God, you're beautiful." A steady hum purred from her throat as he bent to kiss the smooth skin. The younger guitarist was strangely calm as he sought to indulge his desires of the past several months. Her skin was silky under his tongue and she smelled of lavender petals, a drowsy perfume that heightened his languor. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes, letting his lips drift along her trembling flesh and flicking an experimental tongue at the crinkled nipple when he reached it. He raised an eyebrow at her soft cry and carefully licked, then sucked more hungrily when she began to whimper with pleasure.

"Oh god, Wolfy, don't stop," she pleaded.

"I won't, just lay back." Surlaw slipped his arm out from under her and climbed easily over her shaking body. "Don't fight it, you're sleepy and I know what you need," he murmured. His lips suckled and she whined. "Lay back and let me take care of you." No other girl had gotten so worked up over her breasts before. He shuddered with delight, his hand stroking the other as he kissed her there, tenderly lapping and pausing to murmur sleepy encouragements in a low, sexy voice. He wondered what else she liked. His palm wandered down over her belly to her navel, dipping in and ticklishly stroking lower.

"I love your hands." The soft little admission brought a gasp from him. He raised his head and kissed her neck, lips working as he spoke.

"Do you love them on you? Lower?"

"Lower, honey, please..."

"Yes," he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut. God, this was what he'd wanted, needed, dreamed about. He kissed her again and added his second hand to his explorations, dragging her panties slowly off her body and smiling when she raised her rear to help. "Hush, baby," he soothed as she twisted in anticipation, calming her with a touch.

"But..."

"No buts! I waited so long." He stroked the insides of her quivering thighs. "I won't make love to you yet," he panted, his accent thickening as he grew more and more aroused, "I just want to feel you and make you feel good." Elly relaxed back onto the soft bed, breathing out slowly. She felt as if she were melting into the mattress, everything soft and full and right at last. Her legs parted at his further touch and he crawled down so he could see better. This caused the woman to blush and turn her head to one side on the pillow. The curtains blew in the breeze, the warmth spread in her belly as he began to kiss her, hands grasping, caressing, kneading...fingers creeping close to her down there. Mouth warming skin even closer. She gasped once and closed her eyes.

"Make it good," she whispered.

"Don't you know by now that I always get an encore?"

That had been good, but a few days later it got even better. His body surged and fell, the warm sun beating down on his bare back as he kissed his girl under a clear blue sky. Her skin was flushed and salty, the heat and the sea air making her taste even better than usual.

"You're delicious," he whispered hoarsely. "It's so stupid to say but ..." It was true, she did and he couldn't get enough. He shrugged and went back to lapping at her neck. Nothing could be better except one thing he knew they would get to in time.

"It feels good," Elly told him quietly. She stretched under his attentions, gliding a hand over his sweating back and digging her nails idly in when he bit. "No biting! Bad," she chided with the hint of a smile. But Surlaw had stopped already. His eyes were wide, mouth parted. The tip of his tongue quickly wet his lips and he caressed the side of her face with a shaky palm.

"I'm always covered up onstage," he panted. "Do it."

"What?"

"I want to feel your nails down my back." His voice was suddenly burning with lust.

"They're too sharp -"

"Nmm." He bit her again, warningly. "You don't have anything to cover a hickey up here, sweeting," suiting action to word and baring his teeth high on her neck, "all the mags'll headline how we're sexual deviants." He snickered evilly.

"You little bastard," she pouted. "Not playing fair. You'll feel them when we make love." It was her turn to cover a wicked grin when he froze, then started to shake violently.

"Ah, shit, that's what I want," he panted in her ear. "Now. Can we do it on the beach?" He looked around as if confirming that they were, in fact, on a private strip of sand. No one was anywhere in sight, something they had paid dearly for but worth every penny.

"Sex on the beach?" She regarded him with lazy purple eyes.

"Why not?" His own eyes were dark behind the shaded lenses of his sunglasses. His voice took on an exaggerated accent. "Yeah baby!"

"Gah, don't ever do that again." She grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "You sound like Austin Powers."

"Um. Deliberate." He kissed her when she laughed.

"You sure you want to considering our luck? Maybe we ought to go back to the -" She drew in a great rush of air as he caught her bikini top in his teeth and lightly tugged it off.

"You think I'm going to wait?" His hands peeled down her bottoms as well and she wiggled underneath him, her fingers ticklishly sliding down his back. They came to rest on his rear and he sighed appreciatively when she rubbed.

"Mmm, I didn't think so but it was worth a try." The garish trunks followed the course of her bathing suit and then they were nude and laying on each other for the first time. Elly hadn't ever seen Surlaw completely bare and she paused for a good long moment, taking in the small patch of hair in the middle of his chest, the small belly roll, the fuzz leading down to his firm penis. Surlaw reached up to take off his sunglasses. He couldn't see well enough with them on all of a sudden.

"H-hey!" He stifled laughter at her light stroking. "That tickles, damn it...oh. That doesn't. That. That doesn't, luv." He gasped, twisted above her. "There. Like that."

"You're longer than I thought," she murmured, eyebrow raising. He snorted amidst the haze of pleasure from her gentle flogging.

"Fat lot of good it does me, too. I can't wear too many condoms," he panted, "as you'll soon see." He kissed her and they stopped talking for awhile, hands roaming and bodies pressing together but not as intimately as they could just yet.

"Oh, that won't be an issue."

"Pill?" She nodded. She'd started taking them since that one time on the bus. She realized sooner or later they would make a mistake if they kept on the way they were going.

"Good," he sighed in relief. "I can wear the big ones, but they tend to break." He coughed apologetically and leaned in for another kiss. Neither noticed the clouds overhead or the rumbling until the first fat drops of rain hit Surlaw's back. He yelped in surprise.

"The hell?"

"It's raining?" And at that point the more appropriate term would have been 'the heavens opened'. A deluge of water poured on them, warm summer rain with lightning crackling in the distance. It poured straight down, soaking them both in minutes. Surlaw's face was set, his eyes closed in resignation as the water plastered his brown hair to his face and throat. He glanced down at the woman below him, her own hair slicked back and her eyes half-closed to keep the water from dripping into them.

And then he ignored the weather completely.

He smothered her protests with his mouth, crushing his lips to hers as the rain pelted down on their sun-warmed skin. His tongue swirled and caught her own, passionate and eager. Hands moved down her slippery body, curling around her legs as they rose up to wrap around his waist.

"Hold on to me," he murmured, lips close to her ear. She felt his firm length nudging insistently at her below and arched backwards to meet him. Surlaw's feet dug into the now-damp sand, digging tunnels as he moved. The rain was on them now, fully engaged and pouring, feeling like a warm massage on his surging back.

She tried not to but eventually her nails scratched at him in the way he wanted, scraping, grasping for purchase without a thought of how it must hurt.

He didn't mind.

Like the song, he wanted to hurt so good. To strain himself to the edge and feel her tearing at him, lost in the pleasure he was giving her. Surlaw hissed through his teeth and doubled his efforts, sweat flying as he thrust. He struggled to show her by strength and sheer power of will how much he loved her. Something unspoken but there in the way he pushed himself to the limits as they made love. Nothing would do but his utmost for his girl.

The rain was tapering off and he flung his head back, droplets flying as his hair swung back. Water was in his long sideburns as well and clung to the brown hair in little beads.

His girl, he could say. Now truly his in every way he could physically have her. Mentally, maybe - but that didn't matter now. What mattered was his roiling sex. And he was more than ready for it. Elly was hitching in tight little gasps, each intake of air wheezing his name, saying it, singing it, crying it...

The warm ball of fire in his lower belly exploded and he stiffened, not crying out in orgasm but rather holding his breath as he strained towards the mighty release he felt crashing inside him. He saw spots before his eyes and let the air out of his lungs explosively as if he'd dived down underwater and come back up again, gasping, each tearing breath an admission of pleasure.

"Whoo," he panted raggedly. He blinked, shook himself back to reality to find his beloved clinging to him, her face wet with more than rainwater. "Eh? What's this?"

"Always cry," she gulped, "after a good orgasm!"

They stared at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing. They dragged themselves back to the beach hut and towelled off quickly, stuffing their wet clothes in a bag apart from their normal suitcases.

"Okay, all right," Elly murmured. "This is our last day here, too. Are we sure we have everything?"

"Yup." Surlaw yawned bone-crackingly, stretching his arms over his head. He looked a little silly with a towel wrapped about his head instead of his hat but his hair was still soaking wet. He flopped onto the bed and began to rub at it briskly.

"Hey, I got a call from Julie." She listened for a minute, then frowned. "Damn, rain is causing some serious shit all of a sudden for us. Remember the day we all played in the rain - a week or so before we came here?"

"Uh-huh."

"Julie says Robin's in the hospital. With pneumonia."

"How the bloody hell do you get pneumonia in California in the summertime?!"

Elly shrugged, frowning. "I guess it's not cold that does it. He says it's serious; she has water on the lungs or something. Can't play."

"Fuck." He flung the towel into the bathroom and it slapped wetly over the side of the bath tub. "We have another venue coming up, don't we, luv?"

"Soon," she nodded.

"What're we gonna do?"

The answer, of course, was simple. Hire someone that knew what he was doing.

He walked in as if he owned the place, firmly setting down his soft-heeled sandals on the hardwood floor of the recording studio. The pale man was in his early twenties and wore a black shirt that was unbuttoned enough to show the beginning of an elaborate series of tattoos across his upper chest. They seemed to be bird feathers. That would have been enough to attract her eye, Surlaw admitted grudgingly, because he looked like a freak. But his hair added to his ridiculousness - he had sweeping black locks that covered his left eye and had been bleached white across the bangs. The guitarist couldn't help thinking he looked like a skunk, and after talking with him for only a few moments he thought his attitude stunk, too.

"You're the stand-in?" Surlaw greeted him with a smile the other didn't return right away. The hesitation was noticeable only to the two men facing each other. Surlaw blinked.

"You wanted a bass player, so your manager got you the best." He shrugged, grinning now as he looked around the room. "My name is Bastian." He shifted the instrument he was holding to his left hand and his seawater eyes widened when he saw Elly.

"Is that short for -" Surlaw snapped his teeth together as he was cut off.

"Sebastian," he said shortly with a small bow towards the purple-haired woman. His eyes were only on her as he spoke. "I had it legally changed a few years ago. It's only Bastian now."

"Hi." She flopped down in a seat next to Surlaw, introducing herself and Julian. Everything seemed to go smoothly and they managed to practice quite a bit, the bassist blending almost perfectly in at once. It was something of a shock to them all. They'd worked with Robin for so long that it was amazing someone could take her place. They even had to admit that he played better than she did. At last Elly had to take a break. She grinned apologetically at them all and sauntered out the door. The rest of them took the opportunity for the same - all except Surlaw who rolled his eyes and told them they had "weak bladders". Elly finished up, checked her hair and makeup at a passing glance then left for the practice room again. She was almost there when she heard the soft beat of sandals behind her on the smooth flooring. Bastian leaned over her from behind. He smelled like leather, a very nice scent but far too close. She turned and blinked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner."

"The rest of the band?"

"No. Just us." He grinned at her, his pale eyes sparkling. From this position she saw why he chose to leave his shirt partially unbuttoned. His chest was visible and if he bent - as he did now -- she could see most of the way down his shirt. His chest rippled impressively with muscle. Face flaming, she jerked her eyes away and mutely shook her head.

"If you're coming on to me, I'm not interested."

"Seeing someone?" He bent even closer and she began to cast her eyes about in desperation. There was no way of getting out of the situation without creating a scene that Surlaw would notice. She knew his temper and didn't want him upset.

"Don't you read all those junk magazines?" She asked archly. "I'm with Surlaw, Bastian."

"Hmm." He reached out to take her chin in his hand - something she would have had to protest -- but the door creaked open and the Joker peeked out at that very moment. Elly deftly slipped away from the tall man and rushed into the practice room. She was only in there a few seconds when Surlaw came tearing out to push past the startled drummer. He rounded on the taller man in fury.

"Why the hell did you hit on my girl?"

"I didn't realize." Bastian shrugged. "Plus, sometimes it doesn't matter, you know. Especially with rock stars and stuff."

"What?" The other man clenched his gloved fist. "A gentleman doesn't speak of such crap," he growled angrily, stressing the word as firmly as he could.

"Didn't mean anything." Bastian looked at the bigger man in some amusement, his tone mild as milk. "Listen, she's attractive, and hell, you're not too bad yourself. I'm just saying that sometimes band members are up for different experiences. And I didn't know you were actually paired off."

"We're dating, and I'm not gay," Surlaw snarled. He kept a straight face though his sideburns bristled. "I don't want to hear you came near her like that again or I'll feed your own hand up your arse!"

"What the fuck's your problem?" Bastian frowned. He was irritated at the gay comment; neither was he. He was actually bisexual, a far different stretch. "I didn't hurt anyone. I'm just asking, no harm in that. S'actually good to get this kinda shit out of the way so we can work together better."

"I think I hear Elly calling," Julian said quickly to head off any further argument. He shook his head as the guitarist stomped back in, lanky green hair falling around his angled face. "Dude. Don't screw with his girl. He's an angry sonofabitch."

"Fuckin' wanker," Surlaw seethed. He'd stormed over to her and now sat as close as he possibly could to her. His accent was thick and his anger clear to anyone that looked as the pulse in his neck twitched, angry vein thumping. Elly smoothed his sideburns consolingly.

"He looks like the type that had to try once to get it out his system, Wolfy. You know I won't leave you."

"'At's the problem, I don't think he's going to quit. He's on the fucking pull."

"Um?" Elly spread her hands, trying to convey her lack of Britspeak. Surlaw took a deep breath, whipped his hat off his head and combed at his messy brown hair with his fingers.

"He's looking to score, how's that then?" His arm tightened around her possessively. "You're not being interested makes it a more exciting hunt."

"Geez."

"We can send for another bass player," Joker shrugged. He'd come back in after telling Bastian to wait outside for awhile until they'd sorted this out.

"We can't, though," Elly murmured. "We only just got him over and we have to play tomorrow night at that big stadium thing. We got him because he was the best they could send and he could learn fast. You know that." They both agreed, Julian shrugging and Surlaw grudgingly.

"Hey." The subject of their discussion stood not too far away. He had put his instrument down and his hands were behind his back. "Man, I didn't mean to fuck up my chance of playing with you guys. I'm sorry."

"My man's the jealous type." Elly flicked a wayward strand of purple hair behind her ear and grinned at him, trying to ease the tension.

"All right, all right," Surlaw groaned, raising his gloved hands in the air. "We're fine. We need to get through this gig. I don't trust you," he said to Bastian, his lips set in a thin line, "but I trust her. Good enough." She blinked at him, startled at the steel in his voice. Bastian's seawater eyes were frozen over as he glared at the man sitting in front of him. He tossed his head, dark hair swinging.

I just tried to apologize. What's his problem?! His fists clenched but he hid them once again behind his back, trying to appear calm and unconcerned.

"I think we need a five minute break before we begin. A real one. Don't you?" Surlaw stood, brushing the wrinkles out of his slacks and then casually slipped his arm around her waist. Bastian's eyes narrowed. It was the fabled "girlfriend position" - women like her wouldn't let you hold her that low if you weren't seriously attached. He didn't doubt what they'd told him but he still wanted her. Someone with actual talent, not some wannabe rocker chick. All he'd ever managed to date were posers. To see the real thing so close to him but unavailable nearly drove him mad.

But not all relationships worked out.

"Mmmn, all right." She yawned. "I could use some water." She made a little face. "Water, screw. I want coffee! I know, I know," he voice drifted back to him as they walked off. "makes me burp when I sing, but god..."

Julian's eyes narrowed as he saw the newcomer eyeing them.

This wasn't good at all, was it.


	4. Chapter Four

Bastian strolled into the hotel bedroom and sighed, looking around at the furnishings. He found all this opulence disgusting.

"Personally, I prefer shabby little roadside hotels with neon lights in front," he muttered to himself, one long-fingered hand absently running across the scar hidden in the intricate tattoo work on his chest. He grunted sourly when he remembered that Surlaw and Elly had gotten a room together.

He swore violently.

The young man had always taken love where he could get it - he found that was the safest way -- so when he'd finally been struck by the real thing he wasn't surprised to find it hitting him so hard. He'd never thought it would seriously hurt this much, though. In all his posturing and playacting the "emo" dude for fandom he'd never imagined it really did make you feel like shit.

Of course he blamed himself. If he hadn't pushed himself to ask her out she wouldn't think he was such an asshole. If he hadn't made Surlaw so angry he wouldn't be on his guard now. The man watched him like a hawk around his girlfriend. Bastian sighed and rubbed his knuckles at his eyes angrily.

"All right, screw it." He opened the front of his silken shirt the rest of the way, letting the sides breeze past him as he walked out to the balcony. He snatched up his old guitar as he went and threw himself down on a lounge chair by the railing, stretching his long legs out. He snapped his knees, kicking his sandals off and relaxed backwards, lightly strumming the instrument.

This soothed him and he began to ripple a discordant tune, a broken, haunting melody that matched his somber mood. He blew his white-streaked hair out of his face for a moment and concentrated a little harder.

Wait. That was it.

 

If I could tell you how I feel

'know you'd think my love was real

if you could see the love we'd make

you wouldn't think I was a fake

I need you, love you, cherish you

won't ever get there, never make it

straining, pushing, crying for you

...can't you see me now?

 

He passed the sheet music to Surlaw the next time they practiced, making a conscious effort to not show her directly. He stood there with his head high, thinking the man would reject it out of hand... but he didn't.

"Hey, this isn't a bad melody..." He picked it out on his own instrument and then frowned. "Back me up. I want to see how it sounds." The bass line was shockingly minimal and the guitarist raised his eyebrows under his worn hat.

"I didn't write it to play it." Bastian shrugged, icy eyes not meeting the older man's confused stare.

"You want to sing?" He called Elly over and Bastian stiffened, swallowing a little too hard. He suddenly felt angry and he didn't know why but he welcomed the emotion. It was better than that strange butterfly feeling he wasn't used to.

"Ohhh. I could play guitar for this," she affirmed after merely a glance. "Surlaw, bass? You wanna try it?"

So he sang his heart out that night they played it in front of an audience for the first time. A sickening cliche but he found in this case it was true. The emotion he put into the song wowed the crowd and critics, earning Mister Zero praise for welcoming the new player into the band and accepting his ideas instead of turning him out.

Bastian had named the piece "Unrequited" and neither Surlaw or Elly had made a single comment. The magazines all made those themselves, but the band didn't take much note of those anymore.

Fans speculated about this pale goth young man and his emotional way of acting. They noticed that while he sang he didn't look around like people normally did. He sang to the floor, his hands expressive, making gentle gestures of regret and remorse.

Young girls loved him.

Older fans found, somewhat surprisingly, that they liked his music.

He'd made his way into the band - at least for a little while -- but he wasn't as happy as he should be. And why not? Forced to look at Elly like a person instead of a sex object, he'd found feelings he didn't know he could have for anyone. The more he saw her, the more he wanted to know her and be with her.

That's not to say that he didn't have some sexual issues, though.

Bastian panted roughly, tearing at the soft silken cord that bound him. His wrists were tied loosely with it here and there, enough so that he could untie himself later but still feel it tighten as he struggled.

His brain was on fire.

He rarely drank so much; he didn't like to lose control because he was afraid of what he might do or say. Tonight they'd had a small party in the hotel where they were staying at after a show and the infamous couple had been clearly attentive to each other. Bastian grimaced, sweat flying as he shook his head. His jet black hair was mussed and the white streak was matted from him burying his face in the pillows of the large four-poster bed in his room.

No, no, no! That's why I drank that much, it's supposed to make the thinking STOP!

He writhed and whimpered on the sheets, starting to cry and hating himself for it, wanting to stop and unable. His sooty eye makeup was smeared and dripping down his cheeks in rivulets of ashy tears. He picked himself up on his knees with his head down, hands up before him as if in supplication but really tied to the posts at the head of the bed.

Bastian liked to be tied up.

He thought that if he threw himself down and maybe jerked off good and hard he could fall asleep and not remember what had happened that night. The tied up part was what made it special, as he didn't do it by himself a lot and he hadn't had a partner in several months now so he hadn't gotten to indulge his fancy at all. Ever since he'd seen her. He hadn't wanted any groupie or quick one-night stand with one of the roadies or anything. Something that had been simple was suddenly so painful. He needed to orgasm but couldn't. Upon realization he froze. What? Was it the drink? Was it the thought of the two of them kissing and holding each other... he retched noisily.

"No good," he moaned, his shoulders drooping in defeat. His pale body wracked with shivers, abdomen flexing, rippling in spasms he couldn't control. Slowly he relaxed and slipped his wrists free. He couldn't tonight. And what use was the alcohol. He was already sober again. He got up and moved lithely to the bathroom. A shower might be in order.

Once inside the lavish room he turned on the water and waited until it warmed before deciding a bath would be nicer. He relieved himself and washed his face while the tub ran full, picking out a few things to take with him like shaving cream and his favorite soap. There, it was steaming slightly and looked invitingly warm as he liked it. Bastian sighed deeply and stepped into the water. He sank to his neck, stretching out so he lay the full length of the tub, no small feat for his long limbs.

"That's better." He crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Fucking drink. It must have been that. Why had he wept like a little child? He knew he wanted her and it pissed him off to see the other man lording it over him like he did but he hadn't thought he would cry. Oh, it wasn't like he never did. Bastian was a sensitive, angry young fellow and he took things very personally. A simple argument over something he believed in could make him tear up with frustration when he recalled the incident.

What the hell?!

There had been a knock at the door.There - no, he hadn't been imagining it. This time it was louder. He splashed water as he jumped up, casting about for his robe.

"I'm coming, don't fucking break it down. Jesus." He reached the panel and stared out the peephole, hair dripping water down his now clean face. Some thin guy in a black shirt was looking nervously off to the side. His hands were in plain view and he didn't feel this was a threat. Bastian opened the door. "What?"

"Oh." The young man's face burned red all over. "I thought - I didn't know that you'd actually be in here..."

"Looking for me?" He raised an eyebrow and stared harder at the man. He was of decent build, not really built but he wasn't fat or anything. He hated too much pork in a guy. He found himself actually grinning when the other man bit his lip.

"I guess."

"You want to come in?"

Minutes later he was groaning on the bed as the other man sucked hungrily on him. He hadn't had to ask; all he had to do was drop his robe and beckon, his firm erection bobbing in its own "come hither" pose. He placed a hand on the back of the guy's head, feeling the soft texture of his hair in approval. Moist sounds and his soft panting were all that could be heard as the youth sucked him off, tending to his needs in attentive silence. Bastian had a feeling he wouldn't even have to reciprocate, but maybe he would. It all depended on how good the little fucker was.

And he was doing a great job so far. Bastian's ice water eyes widened and he gasped loudly when he felt moistened fingers tap gently at his entrance below. Right, he knew what he was doing. Good, good. Wordlessly he lifted his rear off the bed and spread his legs more, allowing access and smiling fiercely when the other choked a little in surprise.

"I ..."

"Never on top before?"

"Uh, it's not that, I just - " A slick of saliva and pre-come was on his chin. Bastian leaned forward and lapped at it, moving up to kiss him deeply. Wiry arms encircled him and he moaned with approval.

"Didn't think I'd do it?"

"Maybe." He blushed even harder, his dark eyes and brown hair making him nice and anonymous. A good clean screw with no regrets. It had been too long.

"Here." He reached inside a pocket of the robe and drew out a tube of lubricant. "Use this. I like it rough, but not in that way."

"R - rough?"

"If you're going to do it, fuck me in half. Or at least try." He quirked a grin and spread his legs more, gesturing. "Can you without me turning over?" His answer was a tackle and hoarse cry. Bastian laughed with delight and lost himself in the sex. It was hard, fast and terribly brutal, even when the other reached up and jerked him off the rest of the way.

To put it shortly, it was fabulous. He forgot everything but the tug and pull and pain and release for a little while. And when they were finished he didn't even have to tell the dude to leave; he thanked him with a kiss, cleaned himself up and left the same way he had come.

He almost wished he'd have stayed but then he might remember something in the morning. The pale man fell tiredly over, his face twisted with what might have been a smile but one tear trickling down his face.

No.

No.

NO.

He didn't remember her at all. He fell asleep curled up in a fetal position with his cheeks damp. And it was the same later on when they were travelling on the road again in their slightly newer bus.

Elly stumbled into Bastian's arms, eyes red with weeping. She kept gasping for air to try and halt the tears but it just wasn't working. The pale young man blinked in surprise and backed a little away, arms carefully at his sides. He let her rest lightly against his bare chest as she wept, looking nervously around the while.

"What happened? Is everything alright? Did you get hurt?" He paused, grimacing. That was way too cliche. "You totally had a fight, didn't you?" Bast was torn as she shook her head, still sobbing. Fuck. Couples fought all the time. Celebrity couples maybe a little more, so it was natural that they have a spat now and then over something. They worked so close together all the time.

"It's uh, all right though." He felt guilty somehow as he patted her shoulder. "You know it'll be okay."

"No," she groaned. "He..." She couldn't go on and Bastian found himself being held tightly as she cried. Her arms were squeezing him for comfort, face now completely hidden. He could feel her hot tears, her face contorting against his tattooed upper chest. Her hands grasped at the open sides of his silken shirt in desperation.

"Ah, crap," he groaned. "Isn't there anyone else you could have gone to?"

"No!" She pointed with a trembling finger. "Joker left to go shopping and there's no one here but you now." Her voice cracked pathetically on the last word.

"Fabulous," he muttered dryly. "Julie had to pick this day to buy some new toys."

"Sorry," Elly snapped angrily, wiping at her tears with the back of a shaking hand. "I shouldn't have imposed. I really shouldn't have. Even now." She watched as he reached out to her and then froze, his clear blue eyes confused.

"I can't be trusted," the pale man said simply, hand falling limply to his side. "The fuck - you think I don't want to do this?" As suddenly as he had drooped in defeat he was beside her, pressing close and leaning down to her throat.

"Bastian," she squeaked in a tiny voice.

"You knew I wanted you," he whimpered faintly. His fingertips brushed the hair away from the side of her neck. "That hasn't changed." She felt his bare chest against her back and shuddered slightly. "You know I want to make everything all better." He bent and brushed his mouth against the wildly thrumming pulse in her neck.

"Maybe..."

Wonder of wonders, she didn't flinch away.

"Oh god, thank you." His cheeks started to burn as he realized she was letting him do this. He quickly wrapped his thin arms around her waist and pulled her closer, sighing. His entire body was trembling, shivering with eagerness to show her how much he wanted her. He was also deathly nervous. This was probably his only chance, and if he screwed it up..!

"Bastian," she gasped again, this time in a different tone as he ran his hands gently across her breasts. The stiff set of her body relaxed and became pliant as he nibbled, moaning with pleasure and trembling against her. He was taken by the depth of emotion, the urge and the need. Always before sex had been quick and easy, a fun romp. This was a natural disaster hitting him deep in his heart and loins. Good thing, too, because his obvious awe and worship of her body must have been what caused her to allow his embrace. At least he figured it was so before he lost his ability to think at all.

He came shortly after she touched him, her hand running down his bare chest to play with his greedy erection. All he smelled was her, all he touched, tasted and wanted. It was over far too soon and he cried out softly, muffling his voice by stuffing it against the pillows on the bed.

The bed.

"Angel, my angel," he whimpered into the soft cotton. "Oh, shit." Bastian lifted his head, sweat rolling down his bare neck. His hand fell limply from his spent penis and he closed his eyes.

He was on the bed, not standing up.

He was also alone, not with the woman he desired.

Always had been.

Bastian tilted his head, his white-streaked shock of black hair shifting across his forehead. The bus moved along the road steadily since they were on some interstate and there wasn't any traffic. The floor hummed softly beneath his cot, he smelled Julian smoking, heard the microwave beep. Surlaw and Elly - an angel, not his angel -- were chatting some distance away.

He came back to reality the way he always did and it was bitter, bitter. And though he did love her, he never knew how close he was going to come to telling her a few days later.

The recording of their new song's video took place on a remote Californian beach. It was a controversial subject at best; Bastian's Unrequited had become a hit and they wanted to showcase it. Unfortunately the obvious "story" for the backdrop was Surlaw and Elly's romance he was jealous of. Jealous, yeah, he admitted it. Bastian had started to change slightly in the weeks he'd been their bass player. Although Surlaw obviously didn't care about him one way or another he'd given him fair play. Elly had been wonderfully friendly - though not in the way he wished -- and he'd gone out on the town with Julian more than once. Hell, even the makeup artist had crashed with them a few times. He had friends and his life seemed to be changing for the better.

And now this.

The lights were staked out in the sand and the production crew was filming the couple scenes. As Surlaw held her softly for the cameras as fuel for the fan base and the romance freaks out there, the director suddenly noticed his expression.

"Can we roll some cameras on Bastian over there? Yes? That all right?" Bastian shrugged. Whatever, he didn't care. They moved him to a point where he was off to one side of the couple and he looked on somewhat dejectedly. They shook off the script as the dark-haired young man circled the loving couple, apparently oblivious to this presence.

He started to sing.

The wind swept the shock of white hair back from his pale forehead and his ice-blue eyes shone with regret and longing. People often commented on what a good actor he was as well as musician but he wasn't faking anything. Watching the young Brit snuggle with the woman of his dreams made his guts twist inside. The song rolled out of him, burning like the tears that wanted to roll down his face. As it neared the end he reveled in it; the emotional onslaught was like a drug he couldn't get enough of. They rolled a few shots of Joker playing drums on the sand and Surlaw playing bass, Elly with her fish-shaped guitar in her hand...the usual band antics. Yet they all played seriously, trying to match the mood of the video.

"All right," someone called out. Bastian didn't even know who it was. The day had been long and he was emotionally drained. "We'll wrap this up with some day dream sequences later." They began filing out of the area and he frowned.

"Day dream...?"

"Read the script?" Elly flickered a nervous smile at him and tossed him a copy. "They went off for this afternoon but they really want these to fill in later."

"Oh..." Bastian gasped, fingering quickly through the pages. He walked off and sat down on the nearest chair, his eyes wide. "I didn't know we - wait, I can't..." His head snapped up and he scanned the area for the brown-haired guitarist but he couldn't find him anywhere. Shaking slightly, he stood and walked off to his trailer to sleep before the night's filming. It didn't seem very long before he had to be awake and ready for the horrors of the night. The script was frightening to a man that truly had feelings for the woman he was supposed to be faking it for. He showered and dressed carefully in the tuxedo they had gave him. Their makeup artist came in and fussed with him a bit and during this time he found out Surlaw wasn't showing for this part of the filming. Bastian bit his lip. In a way he was glad he wouldn't show but he also resented it. He didn't consider him a threat at all, the pompous ass. Here he was, about to cozy up to his girl and...

"All right, it's acting people. Relax," a man was saying to them as they stood on the damp sands of the beach again. The director smiled at Elly and she grinned nervously back.

"Can I just close my eyes the whole time?" Her face was flushed and Bastian privately thought she had never looked more lovely. The night was milder than the day had been and they were dressed differently, formal wear under the stars. The scene was reversed for the "dream" - he was romancing her of course.

"If it makes you more comfortable, go for it," the older man shrugged. "It's supposed to be his dream, not yours - so you're not here in 'reality'. Closing your eyes may make it seem more symbolic. Try it."

It began innocently enough. Bastian approached her, she closed her eyes and he smiled before embracing her from behind.

Bastian sighed and dropped his head to her neck, breathing in softly. His lips parted but he didn't kiss; his eyelids fluttered closed as hers were. As scripted he swung her gently around in his arms and bent as if to kiss her. Their mouths nearly brushed and he forced himself to hold back. He raised his head, his pale face anguished with tears running down his cheeks. Falling down to his knees he clutched her against him as she gasped in surprise. He heard someone yelling out, 'roll with it! Genius! Genius I tell you', but it was muffled in his ears like reality was the dream. Even the lights shining on them didn't convince him; the light made everything soft and surreal. He couldn't see anything but her face in front of his and that's all that mattered. Her lavender eyes were wide and dark, so very dark. His knees dug pits in the wet sand below but he didn't care. He held her before him and wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her. The waves crashed on the beach behind them and all he needed to do was open his mouth and pour out his feelings much the same. It would be so easy he had thought but he now knew it wasn't.

This was the part they blended into the end of the video. Haunting piano music plays as he holds her and cries. The two of them are motionless with the ocean breeze ruffling her dress and the lapels of his suit jacket. Her purple hair is swept back from her cheeks and she is gorgeous in her innocence. You can hear the bubbling sweeps of the waves in the background besides the piano and that's it - nothing else breaks the silence. The tune slowly fades as the hope dies from the young man's eyes. Bastian wanted to tell her but he couldn't and in the end he saw he might not need to. He finally looked away and carefully lifted her fully into his arms as he stood again. Sand dribbled off his pants and he took no notice as the director yelled cut; he was done with this. His attention was focused only on the woman he held in his arms and he walked her back to a chair out of the circle of lights and wires and sat her gently in it.

"Bast..."

"I'm good, aren't I?" He smiled at Elly. "At acting, I mean."

"Yeah," she murmured uncertainly, a frown creasing her brow. "You are." She watched him as he walked off towards his trailer, not knowing that be broke down the moment he entered it, sobbing into cupped hands as he crumpled to the floor.

Elly couldn't get his sad face out of her mind, though, no matter how hard she tried. It stuck with her even in bed that night.

"You all right, luv?" Surlaw blinked, his green eyes narrowing as he tried to pinpoint her shaking form on the bed. The room was dark; she'd turned off the lights when she entered and it was one of those hotel suites, damn it - hard to tell where the switch was. Ah. He clicked it with one long finger and immediately rushed to her side.

"Hi," she choked quietly. Then she whimpered and clung to him, her fingers gripping the loose polyester shirt he wore.

"You look gutted," he murmured soothingly into her ear. "He didn't try anything, did he?" Try though he might to keep it out a hint of anger crept into his voice as he spoke that last.

"No." The pale singer tucked the ever-present locks of purple hair behind her ears as they tickled her cheeks. She shrugged a little, though, confusing him. Had something happened or hadn't it?

"What 'appened, then?" His accent thickened as he grew more concerned and she smiled, calming down in his embrace.

"The filming was a little intense." Elly sighed as Surlaw stroked her hair. "He cried, Wolfy - it wasn't in the script."

"Eh. He's probably just showing off, like before."

"Maybe," she said dubiously.

"Besides, what's it matter?" He nuzzled her with his sideburns and she giggled as always. "Don't you love me?"

"Gah," she pushed out a big breath in exasperation. "You never even told me that yet!" Surlaw reached up and took off his hat with one hand, grinning at her. "I have some moral codes, you know, sir."

"I know." He stood and removed his shirt while she watched, one eyebrow raised. The purple frilled monstrosity dropped to the floor and he stretched, grimacing with pleasure when his back cracked.

"Did you shave it into your ..." She cut off as he picked her up and placed her on top of him, kissing her forehead.

"I love you, silly little git." Elly nestled on him, tracing patterns in the single patch of hair he sported.

"You said it," she smiled. "I love you, too."

"I should hope so." He mock-cringed when she slapped his cheek.

"Now that's settled, how was your appointment with that new makeup artist of ours? Is she decent?" He yawned and wrapped his arms around her back, cradling her closer.

"Yeah! She's good, all right." She plucked a single hair and he yelped.

"Oi oi, all right! I give!" He rubbed a palm over his sparse chest hair. "That's all I've got y'know. It's the only buffer for when we -" She blew a raspberry at him.

"Snip snip, zip your lip. You perv."

"It's true, an' you know it." He grinned widely.

"Hmm. So?" She dipped down and kissed him thoughtfully. "What are we going to do about the bassist problem?" The pale young man groaned.

"I thought you just got over that, do we have to talk about it again?"

"Yes we have to." She shrugged and adjusted the pale camisole she was wearing when the strap fell. "Robin's still MIA - out in the hospital due to that nasty pneumonia."

"So, emo kid has to stay with us."

"You were nice enough to let him sing that song he wrote. It's getting really great acclaim. I mean, a video!"

"It was good." He snorted. "Even though it was about you." He paused. "Or maybe because it was." He grimaced.

"He does well with us. Better than Robin, you know. And he writes and sings which she doesn't."

"You taking a shine to the bastard now?" Surlaw's brow creased. He raised himself on his elbows and looked her full in the face. "Is that why you were so upset that he cried?"

"I just told you I loved you!"

"I know, and I'm making sure it stays that way." His chops bristled and she stroked them gently.

"I was just ... startled. He looked really upset. If he doesn't walk, we should keep him, though, right?" She sounded uncertain and he realized she almost wanted a reason to let the kid go. The filming had really upset her on many different levels.

"Sound business sense to keep him," he said diffidently. "He hasn't actually done anything screwed up since he hit on you."

"That one time. And he hasn't again."

"Eh."

"I guess he's going to stay on for now?"

"Yeah."

"It wouldn't be right to hold anything against him." She sighed and nuzzled closer. Better to think he'd been acting like he so cheerfully tried to assure her on the set. It might even be true as far as she knew. He was a very talented young man.

"I don't care about the little shit other than he does a good job. And he does." She shook her head, side locks swinging.

"All right. I get it."

"You're gonna get it." Surlaw swung a jeans-clad leg over her own and flexed quickly enough to catch her off guard.

"Hey!"

"All's fair," he chuckled at her indignant huff. "Besides, you're wearing that flimsy little slip thing I like again."

"...a night gown?"

"Yeah. That." He chuckled down at her, ending the night's meaningful conversation on a lighter note. She forgot everything but how much she loved him when he loved her, and he made her world all right again.

It was late, well past midnight in Mister Zero's tour bus. Bastian and Julian were seated at the rec room's table playing dice. The drummer kept stifling yawns behind a large hand. He looked weary and ragged, his army fatigue jacket rumpled and curly hair sticking out all over.

"C'mon, Bastian, I gotta sleep soon."

"Crap," the other groaned. "Ah, just go. I'll find something to do." Bastian was dressed in loose-fitting raver pants and a black silk shirt, open at the front as usual. A silver chain with a dragon on the end settled lightly on his tattooed chest. He hadn't even bothered to try and change from when they'd gone out for dinner.

"Where's the charger for the PSP, Wolfy?" Elly's voice came floating back to them from their cabin. It was a habit of the band that they sang snatches of songs to communicate at odd moments. Bastian now reached down and settled a worn guitar in his arms. The pale young man pulled sour face and strummed a quick melody. The song was identifiable:

Y'know I feel so dirty when they start talkin' cute...

Julian snickered and dropped into a chair next to him. For some reason they'd taken to hanging together more often. The Joker knew a lot of things Bastian was interested in, for instance.

"You can't do anything about it man. Let it go."

"Crap," Bastian grunted again. His fingers rippled across the strings, producing the rest of the line for Jesse's Girl. He shook his head, the white shock of bangs across his jet-black hair flopping. "Don't I know it, Julie."

"Don't call me that, ass." He beat a quick and nervous tattoo on the table next to him.

"Ah, I'm just kidding."

"'Bast?" His ice-blue eyes widened as he heard his name spoken so familiarly.

"What?" He called back over his shoulder, trying to keep his face neutral. She'd called him a nickname. She'd called him by a nickname! She'd never done that bef-

"Earth to Mr. Libache," she murmured from right behind him. She even gave his last name the right intonation. He swallowed hard and flipped his bangs back with a careless-seeming hand. She was wearing her usual tank top and scarf ensemble but this time she had jeans on with a wide purple belt. The black oblong of the PSP jutted from one of her back pockets.

"Sorry, kinda tired."

"You alright? You seem out of it lately." Her eyes narrowed. "Plus you've been wearing that dark makeup all the time again. You're not sleeping at all, are you? This isn't just a late night game?"

"Fuck, you got me, mom." He shrugged. "I don't want to take those pills, all right. I hate drugs."

"The doctor gave you those so you could get a good night's rest!" Julian watched them both, frowning a little. Elly had always acted like a den mother to them all but she seemed seriously upset. "You need to take care of yourself," she added in an uncertain tone.

"Hell, I'll use 'em," the Joker chuckled. He blinked in surprise when Elly rounded on him.

"Shush, Julie."

"Don't call me that! You know I hate that."

"Julian," she amended absently. "Don't get up and walk away from me, Bast!" She reached out to snag his shoulder and he flinched away from the touch, his dark silk shirt flapping.

"What, you want me to sleep good at night? Why don't you prescribe something?" Bastian held himself very still as he looked her slowly up and down, paying close attention to her rounded hips. God, he loved those. Just want to grab them in both hands and... The pale man coughed. His face was also flushed; he felt dirty leering at her but she did leave.

"Bad show, Bastian," the drummer murmured under his breath. Julian put his boots up on the table and the thick heels scraped the surface as she stormed off swearing darkly to herself.

"What was I supposed to do?" Bastian spun around, face twisted with anxiety. "She's calling me by this cute name all of a sudden, all concerned and shit. You saw her!"

"Okay, man, relax." Julian snagged a headband from his pocket and tied his unruly curls back from his face. "You need a drink or something."

"I don't drink."

"That's part of your problem, man," the green-haired man rolled his eyes. "You need to lighten up."

"I don't...uh, like what I do when I get drunk." His blue eyes darkened briefly with guilt. "I'll find something else to help me sleep."

"Yeah," Julian sighed as the pale young bass player left the room. "Can't disappoint her, can we?" He shook his head ruefully. That man was a powder keg waiting to go off. Sad thing was, Julian liked him. He was talented as hell and had a good heart deep down inside. He grunted and decided to forget it for now and go to bed. Just because Bastian didn't sleep didn't mean the rest of them couldn't.

Bastian's feather tattoos flexed as he bent backwards, breathing heavily, flipping over with ease over and over again, hands and feet barely marking the wet sand. The music cascaded over the crash of the waves, soaring, beat matching his movements perfectly.

"Angel," he gasped when he came to a halt and sank to his knees, eyes closed. This was his therapy; muscles tensed and flexed as he bent and moved with conscious grace. A new hobby was better than Julian's idea of getting drunk every night to forget her. It was difficult, gymnastics that toned his body as he writhed in beautiful agony. Naked to the waist and barefoot, the young man flipped back across the sands again to the New Age beat. The sunset stained his pale skin golds and reds, shimmering and washing him in color like a priceless statue. He would dance, he would stretch and pull and arc until he couldn't stay awake any longer. Damned if he would take those sleeping pills!

And he couldn't deny that he was trying so hard to do what she wanted.

"You need to take care of yourself, Bastian..." It was real concern he'd heard in her pretty voice, burning him deep down in his soul. She cared about him, not for him, not with him. Not the way he wanted. But so much more than he thought! He groaned and sank further down, hands digging in the clean sand. His palm stung faintly as a broken shell scratched the skin and it brought him up short. He flopped down and rolled, oblivious to the damp seeping into his jeans. He even laughed despite himself when a wave swept over him, cooling his body with its salty chill.

"I love you," he said softly when the foam drew back for another go. His black hair with white shock plastered to the side of his face, body dripping as water trickled down his shoulders, ribcage, abdomen. His jeans were tighter than before and clung to his body in a way that would have made another man self-conscious. Bastian didn't care. He grinned, thinking that if someone showed up on this remote patch of beach it would only be another band member. It was theirs after all, the small recording studio they had purchased to work in with the money from his first hit. The video had been filmed a few yards away, he was sure of it. Where he had held her, loved her ... if only for make-believe and a short while at that. The wave covered him again and this time he laughed out loud into the churning water - at himself, at his own folly and his desperate emotional attachment.

Yeah, all right, he admitted it. His body shuddered with cold and exhaustion, the music sounded faintly behind him and his need still wasn't slaked. Oh, Bastian knew he needed her. He could feel himself reaching out from the inside every time she was in the room with him, near him. When she touched him his flesh chilled and burned, when she spoke his name he wanted to weep. Such emotion wrote good songs but if he couldn't be with her why had he fallen so deeply in love? He'd stopped drinking after that one time resulted in a wild fling like he used to have. He stopped looking at anyone else, considering anyone but her for his soul mate. He sighed, placed a hand over the tattoos on his chest where the hidden scar was.

"I would share even this with you," he murmured. Bastian had never told anyone how he'd gotten the scar or even admitted it was there. A childhood memory so horrific had scarred him mentally as well as physically. He hid the physical beneath the tattoos, the mental behind various barriers he'd erected over the years. The music had long since stopped from his CD player and he dragged himself up to a standing position, staring down at his bare feet sunk deeply in the sand. Maybe he could sleep now. After a shower, a nice hot shower he'd probably forget all about her ...except the dreams he never wanted to wake up from when he finally did manage to fall asleep.

Right now he just wanted to sleep and he thought he might have a chance doing that at the very least.


	5. Chapter Five

Shivering, sweating under the silk sheets in his new bedroom, Bastian tossed and turned restlessly. He still couldn't sleep. After awhile he'd thought that maybe he could because he actually had a private place to rest where no one would bother him, but he soon found it wasn't so. Swearing softly he slid out of the huge bed and grasped hold of the post at the end, yawning. He was completely nude as always - he hated sleepwear, maybe would crawl into bed wearing his boxers now and then but he preferred zonking out au naturale.

He was a slender man, superbly toned with hardly any fat on him at all. Muscles rippled as he padded across the small hallway of his new condo to the kitchen for a glass of milk. His fridge was barren as usual except for the carton and a few pieces of fruit, some leftover take out and junk like that. He considered eating something and then nixed the idea; he wasn't hungry. Sighing again he took his glass and wandered into the living room to plop down on the sofa.

Maybe he should just tell her. The video hadn't been the perfect opportunity, he saw that now. But he wondered that she didn't see what he thought was so glaringly obvious. maybe she was just ignoring it. He picked up one of the tabloids he had delivered to him and snorted at one of the headlines: "Controversy over new video: Bastian, Elly and Surlaw: hot rock love triangle?"

"Really, guys," he grunted sourly as he sipped his milk. They pick the most outrageous shit and they're nibbling around the edges of truth this one time on pure fucking chance. He sighed and ran a hand through his frizzy black hair. He'd grown up here in California and his hair just loathed any touch of humidity. It was usually dry but lately the weather had been thick and the air chewy. It was seriously bumming him out. He sighed and set his glass down on the ornately carved coffee table. This new condo was nice, he had to admit. He had upgraded when everyone said they were staying here in the area and they'd gotten their studio on the beach. Better and bigger than his little one, with a nice staff on call and a great outdoor activity area. He loved the pool and he even had a small hot tub on his porch himself. It had been one of the features that had prompted him to purchase this certain unit instead of one of the many others he'd looked at. It looked barren now, the dark, beautiful furniture meticulously polished yet sparse in the large rooms.

He suddenly realized he was lonely.

Bastian had rarely been by himself for so long. His good looks and fame - even before he had gained true "rock" status-- had been enough to always ensure he had a bed mate, if not a girl or boyfriend. He rubbed the scruff on his chin and stared morosely about.

"Crap," he whispered. "Maybe I should get a pet besides my plants." He grimaced as the thought of leashes and collars made his heart beat faster. Maybe he'd dress up tomorrow. Who knew, it might make her notice him. He glanced at the bedroom, got up and shuffled back in. He headed straight for what he fondly called his "toy chest" - a gorgeous antique he'd picked up when he was a teenager from someone's garage sale for way less than half what it was probably worth. It had Chinese dragons curled all around it and the box itself had been re-lined in red satin that had similar designs. Bastian unsnapped the catch and peered inside. It was filled with leather whips, chains and collars, coiled neatly and stored with the utmost care. He shivered as he rummaged through them, thinking how wonderful it would be if he could get her to touch something while he was wearing it. Maybe yank it a little...

Okay, that was going too far. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to relax again. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest and he was responding in other, more interesting ways to that simple dreamy thought.

"Get the hell down," he snapped at the offending body part. When his body didn't comply he groaned bitterly and began to pace his luxurious, empty home. He wasn't fooling himself; here he was right back to it again. Alone, empty, trying to put a bright face on things when he was with her.

Did she see through it?

Did she just not care?

Why else had she been so worried about him not sleeping?

A million questions buzzed through his head until he gave up on sleeping completely for the night. Here he was, an attractive young man (heknew he was handsome) pining away for someone that wasn't available. He could have his choice and be able to sleep easier once he'd wearied himself with someone else's body, but he cringed from the thought.

"No," he whispered without realizing he was speaking. "No more of that." He would dress in his best today during the concert and try to have fun. He was aware that his moping around probably alienated himself from the woman he loved. If he could be her friend at least he would have something, anything. The next morning he carded himself into the studio early, nodding to the security guy as he passed. He'd sat down in the practice area and taken his bass in his hands when he nearly dropped the instrument. Elly was walking by in a soft robe that swirled around her as she walked. She didn't look at the room he was in and she wouldn't have seen him anyway due to the one-way glass, but he flushed when he caught a glimpse of pale leg. Bastian watched until she had left, presumably to get to the makeup artist before changing. He took a deep breath and ran his hands down the intricate mesh of his top. He was belted into a leather jacket that was open at the front to show off his tattoos. The buckles ran down his arms and he wore a special custom collar he'd made from a nice belt he'd bought that didn't fit him anymore. His boots ran to mid calf and gleamed in the studio light. His trench coat was thrown across a chair beside him and glistened just as sweetly - he'd treated the leather until it shone.

She was getting her makeup done, was she?

He needed to have his done, too...

"The one with the skunk stripe?" The new makeup artist grinned at Elly when she went in to be made up that morning. She handed her a cup of coffee and flapped a hand in the air. "Darling, he's all into you."

"The video, you mean?" She sat down and yawned before taking a sip. The woman - Chastity, her name was Chastity, Elly reminded herself -- made excellent coffee and she was a caffeine nut.

"Please," Chastity snickered as she picked up her own cup and sat beside her. "He's been making eyes at you since I started work here. I mean, no one else has a chance. Even that hot new technician, and he tried!" Elly nearly choked on her coffee.

"Bastian?" She coughed weakly.

"He's bi, dear." Chas shook her long, bleached hair back and chuckled throatily. Elly was shaking her head.

"What?!" Her lavender eyes widened. "But - but he's never..."

"Never what? made out with a guy in front of you?" The other woman picked up a brush and examined the tip. She smiled tolerantly at her. "It's kinda obvious anyway."

"B - but?" Elly frowned. "How did you...?"

"Stories get around. Before he was with Zero he was a bit of a playboy." She held up a neatly manicured hand to stop her before she said anything else. "Before he started here. Now that he's been with you guys he doesn't seem to be interested in anyone else. Just you." She smiled gently at the astounded singer.

"I just wanted to believe him when he said he was acting," she groaned. Chastity had been an excellent judge of character so far and seemed to glean things from others that most people couldn't.

"Tell me he isn't sexy," she said quietly. "Oh, I know you love your man, but he's hot! Come on."

"You mean he really feels that way about me?" Elly shook her head, hair swinging about her cheeks. "I can't believe that," she confessed wearily.

"Mmm hmm." Chastity squinted slightly. "I know. So does he, and he's so tortured about it. The fans love your new emo boy." She tilted her head up. "I think we'll keep doing the lynx makeup, dear. I like how that works with your skin tone."

"I like that one, too." Elly kept the robe on until Chas was nearly finished, then tossed it on a chair nearby. As her new friend was finishing the last touches of liner there was a polite knock on the door. Chastity raised a barely-there eyebrow and veered over to answer it. She had to hide a smile behind a hand as Bastian peered in shyly.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No, I just got dressed, we're doing my makeup."

"Hey, Els," he grinned. She turned and her mouth literally dropped open.

"Wh- wow. Is that your stage outfit?"

"Yeah." He shrugged and flung his bangs back with a quick little flick of his head. "Sorry. I'm gonna go wait in the practice room until you're done." His thick-heeled boots clacked loudly down the hall and both women were silent until they heard the door close.

"God, he's hot," Chastity moaned half jokingly. "Damn you."

"Yeah, damn me," Elly said faintly, her normally sunny features clouded over with a puzzled frown. She got up. "I'm gonna go see what Surlaw's doing, I think."

Surlaw was playing soft riffs on his guitar, his feet splayed out in the sand. He wore outrageous teal and purple colored swim trunks and his huge sunglasses, nothing else. The freckles on his neck were more visible since he'd burned a little and she sighed in resignation as she grabbed the sunblock.

"You know better than to sit out here in the sun without putting some block on."

"Mnn." He continued to play softly, his mind someplace else. When she began massaging the cream into his skin he twisted around, though. "Oi, luv. The others all went out to eat. Why didn't you go?"

"Didn't want to." Elly shrugged and continued to caress his shoulder blades. The faint scent of coconut wafted in the air mixed with her lavender perfume. "Besides, I still have to find someplace to stay around here. The hotel's nice enough, but the others all have apartments or condos and things."

"Really?" He set the instrument carefully down in a case nearby and reached up to grasp her wrists. "I thought we would find someplace together."

"Are you serious?" She dropped to her knees and began nibbling his neck. She couldn't help it; the freckles always beckoned to her. They were so adorable. Surlaw jerked ticklishly away for a second then relented, letting her try to kiss every one like she always did.

"Deadly serious." He squeezed her hands in his. "The bus wasn't a stable thing, the hotel rooms and suites either. I know what it felt like, shacking up without the commitment." She tensed a little and he shook his head. "Not what I meant."

"Then, what?"

"We could live together." His grin widened when she sighed and placed her cheek next to his.

"Oh, Wolfy."

"You sound wrong. I thought you'd be happy." Surlaw turned all the way around, dropping her hands to face her in the sand, legs spread apart on either side. He leaned endearingly to one side as he propped himself up on his palms. "What's on your mind?"

"It's such a big step," she murmured. "I wanted to marry before I actually lived with someone." His green eyes clouded over momentarily and she winced.

"No, I see your point."

"Really? You're not upset?"

"Really." He smiled and it seemed genuine. She started to relax and he rubbed the back of his neck, his brows drawing down. "Is there something we should talk about, luv?"

"Like what?" Elly sat on the blanket facing him, the sun on her own bare back. Her tank top was pale blue today and it didn't absorb as much of the heat as the darker shades but it would be uncomfortable soon. She reached around and touched the warming skin. Maybe she should put lotion on, too.

"Don't know. You've been distracted lately, I thought maybe you had something on your mind." He touched her hair and she leaned towards his caress with a smile.

"I think it's just 'regular' stress," she said, making air quotes with her fingers. "Bast's song coming out in the top ten, that damned video and all the press. You know."

"That ass still bothering you, the one who was sending the creepy letters? What'd our PR guy say about him?"

"Ugh," she grumbled. "Marty says I shouldn't think it's anything special - everyone starts to get them at some point or another -- but even though I stopped reading them they scare me. He'll tell me to be careful if they're any more threats."

"Threats!" Surlaw was on his feet in a second, curling his arms around her. "He didn't!"

"Sort of," Elly grimaced and shook herself all over despite the warmth of the day. "He tries to shield me from them but the guards all have orders now to be extra careful." She sighed and let him stroke her hair rather possessively.

"If anyone ever tries to get within a foot of you, I'll..."

"You can't do that, Wolfy," she groaned. "Besides, he says that if we give in to the fear it's what they want. Most of the time nothing ever happens. It's all piss in the wind with these guys."

"It better be."

"We've got that record signing coming up, too. It'll be all right. Everyone gets these things he says." He grunted, not convinced.

"Emo boy's going with you for that one, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Better than nothing, I guess."

It had something to do with the rounded contours of her hips, Bastian thought as he watched Elly climb into the limo. Her jeans clung snugly to her shape and he always found himself wondering what it would feel like to slip a hand in her back pocket. He grinned, blushed and crawled inside when she beckoned impatiently.

"Sorry."

"If you don't shake the sand out of your ass we'll never get to the store in time." She smiled teasingly and he felt his heart flop over in his chest.

"Yeah, well I'm nervous I guess." She could have told him to jump out of the vehicle while it was rolling full speed down the interstate and he'd have said 'yes' if she looked at him like that. Elly sighed and glanced out the tinted window.

"It's just a CD, record signing thing."

"Eh." Bastian shrugged and fiddled with the ear cuffs he'd snapped on earlier that morning. One of the was shaped like a dragon, his personal favorite. He ran a neatly-manicured finger down the slender silver body as he stared down at his knees. "Are you sure one guard is enough?"

"It's what they told me. The cops'll be at the door, too."

"I guess that's cool." He yawned, stretching his long legs out ahead of him. "We're not really that inconspicuous, though." He snickered as they rolled up to the store and saw how long the lines already were. Some people had sleeping bags with them. He whistled softly.

"Wow!" Elly echoed his soft statement of surprise. Her purple hair shone in the sunlight as a policeman opened their door for them. They walked out, smiled and waved to everyone, and it wasn't too bad, really. Everyone was nice to them and there weren't any hecklers or mean fans in the lines. One or two asked some questions they had to sidestep around but the members of Mister Zero were getting rather good at that. It was almost an hour since they had been there when a tall, middle-aged man stood in front of Elly holding out a CD for her to sign. She took it and asked if he wanted it personalized. He said no and then asked her something that threw her for the first time since they'd become popular. Bastian's eyes glittered icier than usual as he heard and glanced up at the man.

"Aw, you know those are rumors," Elly said shortly in that extra-pleasant tone one uses on an unruly child or customer. Bastian tensed. Something was wrong here, he felt it. The question had been something he was sure plenty of people wanted to ask but none had the guts. In fact he noticed the people behind them weren't complaining at the delay but listening, wondering. He decided to help diffuse the situation if he could.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I'm single. She's not. And just between you and me, they told us what to do for that video everyone seems to think is proof."

"Ha, well, you can't blame me for trying to ask." The man smiled disarmingly and took the case from Elly's nerveless fingers. It was only a slight change in his posture that warned them all as he started to turn, one hand reaching into his pocket to presumably open it for the CD.

"Els! Get down!" Bastian snapped sharply. The man lunged forward, his dark hair flying behind him and although she was fast, it was clear she wasn't going to be able to move in time and the paid security wasn't going to make it either. He did the only thing his panic-stricken mind could come up with; he spun around and lunged in front of her, willingly offering his back to the silvery sheen of the blade. Bastian's wiry arms encircled her protectively, twitching slightly when they touched her back.

"What?" She was shocked, he saw it in her eyes. He didn't have time to answer her before the fan had snatched a switchblade that had escaped everyone's notice and thrust vengefully with it. The slightest flicker of annoyance passed across his features as he aimed for Bastian instead of the woman he'd wanted to strike.

"Ahh-hh." It hurt. The young bassist's voice was thick and syrupy, very low as he shuddered at the first violent stab. The woman he was so desperately protecting gasped but everything happened so quickly she never had a chance to scream. Elly paled as she watched her friend's face contort in agony. His blue eyes widened, then squeezed shut for a moment as he bared his teeth. He was cradling her gently all the while and although she heard the sickening sound of tearing fabric and flesh as he was wounded he never squeezed. 

Bastian snarled something, the words grated out of him in as harsh a tone as she'd ever heard him use. She couldn't understand what he'd said, though, because it sounded like he'd spoke some other language. He shakily turned about again and she gasped, her hands blindly reaching out to pull him back. The back of his tank top had been slashed open and the dark gray was flowering with blood, the fabric soaking up a lot at first then pattering to the floor as he reeled backwards. Lucky for him it had only been a short blade, but the attacker had ripped it downwards as hard as he could. He had dragged a deep, nasty-looking gash down the young man's left shoulder blade. His arm hung loose on that side but he pointed with the right. "Don't you fucking run!" He called out and the man stumbled and fell from sheer surprise. Random voices called out from the crowd on either side of the store.

"Get him!"

"Fucking stabbed Bastian -"

"Holy shit, it's..."

"Oh my god!"

"Tried to get..."

"Bastian, don't!" Elly's voice rang clear above everyone else's, maybe because of her vocal training, perhaps because of her terror. Her would-be hero was spurting blood and it was not the time for further heroics. The previous lines of people on either side of the booth melted away as he staggered grimly on.

"The hell I won't!" Bastian was quivering with fury. Blood poured faster from the wound in his back as he stumbled forward. "That bastard tried to hurt you!" He blinked down at his knees suddenly. "Oh, crap."

"Bast!" She caught him when he fell, holding him tight against her despite the sticky mess it made. His face was chalk-white now, the loss of blood too much for him to shake off. "Don't move..." She looked around desperately and someone threw her a towel, she didn't know who. Elly pulled him up to face her, holding him close with the towel pressed to his wound. His blood was warm and familiar on the front of her own top from where it had sprayed as he fell.

"You all right?"

"Me?" She stared incredulously at the wounded man in her arms. "I'm fine, he never got me. You ...you're going to be all right too," she added in a rush. She couldn't see well through the tears in her eyes but it looked like he smiled. Damn it!

"This isn't so bad," Bastian murmured in a weak voice.

"Does it hurt?" Elly was still firmly holding the compress in place, her arms trembling with fatigue. She refused so violently to give him up to the gaurd when he offered that the hired man stepped back with his hands held in the air. A gang of fans along with one of the cops had grabbed the assailant and a few others had called 911. They could hear ambulances on the way and someone yelling for people to "stand back" but everything was just background noise, very faint like in a dream sequence. Bastian only saw Elly and she was focused on nothing but his face and staunching the wound as best she could.

"Nah," he smiled at her. "Not when you're holding me." He actually laughed when Elly bit her lip, concern not overriding her embarrassment at his blunt confession. "See? M'fine," he whispered right before he passed out.

Everything ached when Bastian opened his eyes later - minutes, hours, he didn't know. He heard the faint noise of machines to his left, the steady beep of his heart beat somewhat reassuring. He was laying on his chest on a hospital bed with his head turned to one side. Someone was holding his hand and he tried to lift his head to see.

Thank god, he breathed silently when he saw Elly seated in a chair next to him. Her side locks were tucked behind her ears and her makeup was smeared around the eye area. Had she been crying for him? Those glorious purple eyes were closed as she slept and he found he could ignore the pain in his back when he gazed at her. 

"He's awake," one of the nurses said quietly from the door.

"Huh?"

"No, don't move." The firm male voice said. Hands pressed his lower back down and Bastian complied, wincing at the sudden flare-up. "We've got an IV hooked up since we had to dig around for the blade tip. It snapped off in your back, Mr. Libache. You're a lucky man. I don't think he would have stopped otherwise." Bastian opened his mouth to say something then looked worriedly at Elly, who had started to stir.

"Bast..."

"We had to give her something to calm her down," the doctor advised warningly. He got the hint and nodded. All he wanted to do right now was tell her he was okay, not upset the woman he loved. He wanted to reassure her that he was fine, that she had saved him as much as he'd saved her. 

"I'm awake," he said as calmly as he could manage. The look in her eyes was just about breaking his heart. In fact she looked so relieved he dared to lift her hand to his lips and gently press it against them.

"You'll be fine," the doctor said more quietly. He was amazed to hear that the young man had taken the wound meant for her; such things happened rarely. "We gave you an infusion to replace what you lost, kindly donated by your friend here, and you've gotten stitching to close the wound off."

"Hmm," Bastian peered over his shoulder. "Pain medicine?" He sounded weary.

"Yes, and you should try and take some of it. One bottle is for pain, the other penicillin. She said you weren't allergic." Elly shrugged.

"I remembered us talking about it from when Robin got sick."

"Yeah, I'm not allergic. So I take all the antibiotics, got it." He was clearly impatient to be alone with her and the doctor stood up.

"You can leave as soon as we get you to sign a few papers. There's a security vehicle waiting outside to take you both home." He smiled and nodded to Elly since Bastian's eyes were on her and her alone.

"Thank you," she said simply. The good man left, quietly closing the door behind him.

"You could have been killed," she hissed at him.

"So could you." His voice shook so hard that she reached out towards him to give comfort, seemingly without thinking. Bastian swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat and let her caress his cheek.

"Why..."

"I won't let anyone hurt you." She flinched back from the steel in his voice, eyes wide. "Anyone," he panted and she saw him clench his teeth as something he did hurt his back. "No one hurts m - you," he hastily added.

"M"...?

There was nothing more to be said. She couldn't find the words and he was tiring from all the medicine and painkiller they had pumped him full of. The nurse came and removed his IV, then he wearily dressed in plain cotton shirt the hospital provided. His jeans were miraculously okay, just a few splotches here and there. He noticed for the first time that Elly was dressed in a similar plain t-shirt as well. Had he bled all over her? He frowned and couldn't remember. Enough time for thinking later, though. He grinned as the nurse and Elly helped him upright.

"Gonna finally sleep good tonight, I think," he chuckled at their baffled looks. He'd waved them off and began walking slowly towards the door when it banged open and Surlaw nearly ran in followed by a twitchier-than-usual Julian.

"Elly?" The bigger man choked nervously. He wasn't wearing his hat or shades, things that were so much a part of him that he looked somehow unfinished. The naked look of fear on his face was even more disturbing. Bastian lowered his eyes and continued to walk, pretending he didn't see Surlaw crush her to him in an emotional hug. "Bloody hell," he gasped, hiding his face in her neck for a moment. "They told me you were safe but I didn't..." He broke off as Elly murmured something to him.

"Y'all right, bro?" Julian held the door for him when he nodded.

"Yeah, I just can't wait to friggin' sleep."

"That's a nice change." The drummer grinned at him.

"Yeah... eh!" Bastian jerked slightly, holding in the pain it caused him when he felt a hand on his elbow. Surlaw was staring earnestly at him, his green eyes large and very sincere.

"You saved her," he said quietly. Bastian smiled at him, spent. He couldn't muster up enough to hide what passed across his face and he saw the other man nod imperceptibly. "Thanks," was all Surlaw said, however, and shook his good hand once.

"Can we go?" Elly had flagged down a wheelchair and Bastian didn't argue. He wanted to be out of here as fast as possible. Surlaw was clutching his love tightly to him, checking every minute to look in her face and maybe kiss her cheek. He couldn't take his hands or eyes off her and Bastian was glad to leave so he didn't have to witness it. He was bustled into a separate security car and whisked off to his condo where he gladly passed out for the second time today, this time in his bed as he fell fast asleep.


	6. Chapter Six

The other car drove the rest of the band members home. Surlaw wouldn't leave Elly at her place alone and insisted on staying the night, something she didn't resist. The cops had posted someone at her door for now so this place was probably safer than anywhere she could be. And what if someone tried to hurt Surlaw next? Just the thought of that happening to him made her sick with fresh fear, the idea of being torn from him forever. So, it was just as roomy here, probably safe and she had a big enough bed. Fine. Elly flapped a hand at him and muttered she wanted to take a shower before resting.

"Anything you want, luv," he said, his heart in his eyes. She clung briefly to him and kissed his neck before slipping into the bathroom. Her pale body had a few bruises on it and her arms were sore from holding that towel in place for so long. The warm water felt wonderful as she stepped inside and let it flow down her shaking form. She'd guessed that she would relax since a nice hot shower always did that to her, but the horrors of the day finally hit her as she was washing up and saw the blood - Bastian's blood -- swirling pink down the drain. Suddenly she knew what he had been about to say in the hospital.

He probably meant to say "my", she thought and reeled against the side of the shower wall. The bar of fragrant lavender soap fell from her hand, thunking dully on the bath mat. My Elly. Except she wasn't his.

"Oh god what a mess," she cried softly. "No way, what a mess."

Surlaw kept rubbing his fingers on his bushy sideburns, his green eyes narrow with concern. She'd been too long in that shower.

"Elly?" Surlaw didn't know how to handle this situation. She'd been crying, clinging to him, her face red and eyes puffy. He'd never seen her this upset. Of course, no one had presumably ever tried to kill her and almost maimed one of her friends before.

Friend. Bah. Surlaw had never counted Bastian as a member of any immediate concern. He was good for Zero, played bass well and that was the only reason he was there. Maybe he'd misjudged the little bastard, but it didn't matter now. Elly was the person he cared most about and here she was shut in the bathroom with the water running, steam curling out from under the door. He could hear small noises but he couldn't tell if she was talking to herself or crying again. He finally opened the door and pulled the shower curtain back to find her curled in a corner sobbing, the water running down her hair and back into the tub to swirl down the drain in an endless cycle.

"Hey, get up. Here." He reached out and took her by the elbow. Elly looked up blankly, and Surlaw frowned at the glazed look in her eyes. That wasn't good. "It's okay. Really."

"He - his blood..." She gulped and stood shakily up. "It was on me and I couldn't do anything." Surlaw sighed and helped the trembling woman step out of the tub. Elly shook herself lightly all over and took the towel he offered her silently.

"Look, the guy is all right. They released him and everything." He stroked her shoulder and she sniffled. "I'm more concerned about this attack on you."

"What?" She turned her huge lavender eyes on him. "Oh. Because of that."

"Yes. That." He mimicked her a little harshly and she stepped away from him. "Why was that guy writing you? You never told me the details, you know. It was always 'Marty says it'll be okay', but of course it wasn't."

"What the hell, okay?" She roughly toweled off her hair and stepped into a waiting pair of jeans. "I - it was because the guy thought I was a whore. Sleeping with you both." Surlaw choked a little on that.

"Ay, what?!"

"Bastian. And you, and me. He kept calling me horrible names and saying I was setting a bad example for his daughters." She pulled a loose shirt over her head and wiped tiredly at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Plus he hated the fact that Bastian is, well, bisexual. He's open about that - spoke about it in some interviews and stuff. The guy thought it was more, but he thought I encouraged it."

"Wait. He's gay?" Surlaw blinked.

"What?" Her face hardened but he didn't notice.

"He's a poof?!"

"No, he's bi... that means he's um. Like, an equal opportunity lover. Not all one sided."

Surlaw snorted at this. "Does he get dick up the ass? Then he's gay."

"Surlaw!"

"Huh?" He looked up just in time to jump aside as she banged her fist against the wall in impotent rage.

"I can't believe you're homophobic!"

"The hell, luv, I just don't think it's right."

"Is that a reason to hate someone though?"

"I didn't say that!" His green eyes narrowed as he yelled at the top of his voice. And that's not why I don't like the bastard. Elly gasped, her hand clutching the wall. He'd never yelled at her. Ever. She stared at him for a long moment then ran out the front door. She had to stop and speak with the police that were outside to let them know where she was going for a moment, and although they argued against it, she insisted.

"Crap," Surlaw groaned. He ran a hand through his hair and started after her, but after a few steps he realized he knew where she was going. The cop was following her, too, so she'd be as safe as she could be.

Bastian was sitting in an awkward position on his couch when the buzzer from the door sounded. He held a remote loosely in one hand and was only partially paying attention to the movie on the big screen television in front of him.

"Whaaaat," he shouted hoarsely. Who the hell was bothering him now?

"Elly's here to see you, Mr. Libache," one of the cops that had followed her murmured diffidently through the speaker. He had told her she was allowed access at any hour, but never expected her to take him up on the offer. Bastian's face colored and he jumped up a little too fast.

"Yes! Okay, that's all right." Wincing in pain he tottered to the door in his black silk robe and boxers, prudently tying the belt before opening the door to let her in. When the door opened he caught his breath in surprise. Her face was pale with hectic spots of color in her cheeks, her eyes red and she looked like she was shaking hard enough to fall over. He opened the door wide and let her walk inside silently, closing it firmly behind him.

"S- sorry, I didn't, I wanted to..." Her purple hair fell across her cheeks and he saw it was still damp. Her clothing had a ragged, 'thrown on' look to it as well, like she hadn't cared.

"Sit." Bastian said in as unemotional tone as he could manage. "No, really. I'll make you a drink." Elly flopped carelessly on the couch, not protesting at all. He realized she was in need of guidance, of someone to comfort her and swallowed hard. Why hadn't her boyfriend managed that?

"Is that the Twilight movie?" Bastian coughed apologetically as he poured a generous amount of tequila in her margarita. He made sure to add several ice cubes so it would be cool, knowing her preference for chilled drinks.

"Ah, a friend gave it to me."

"Isn't it... oh. Thanks." She took the drink and swallowed most of it in one gulp, obviously intending to choke down her pain with the alcohol. His blue eyes widened.

"Are you all right?"

"Me?" The look she gave him was frightening in its intensity. He carefully sat next to her and touched her hand.

"Look, what happened..."

"You could have been killed," she whispered, tears starting to run down her face. Bastian sucked in a great breath of air and she hastily tucked wet strands of hair behind her ear, looking into her lap in confusion when he curled his hand around hers.

"I took some of that medicine," he said in a soft voice. When she glanced up again she saw his pupils looked quite large indeed. "I don't care. I won't lie to you."

"Bastian."

"I'd do it again." His lower lip was trembling and she saw he'd begun to cry as well. "That's just it. You're safe and it's all that matters." He twisted a little and she reached out involuntarily.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"I didn't want to take the pills." He squared his shoulders stubbornly. "I hate drugs and alcohol. I don't like what happens to me." He paused and flicked his head to the side in that offhand way he had, his forelock swishing his pale face.

"Can I see what they did?"

"Do you really want to?" He sounded fuzzy now and she nodded. Bastian shrugged and started to untie his robe. He must have subconsciously remembered he was only wearing boxers because he let the robe puddle in his lap so as to cover himself as he turned. She set her drink down on a coaster and helped him slip the silk down. His back was milky white in only a few areas now.

Elly's face paled even further as she saw the deep purple bruises around the bandage that faded to blues and greens and finally a sickly yellow. The bandage itself was spotted with yellow and red here and there.

"The thing needs to be taken off, the paper said to let it breathe or something when I slept," he slurred. "I guess if you want you can take it off." He absently scratched the scruff on his chin. If there was anyone he wanted to do that it would be her. Even if it hurt it wouldn't because her hands would be on him again. He could bear anything that way.

"It's loose." She tugged very gently and the medical padding fell off. "Oh, Bastian!"

"Whahuh?" He hissed with stunned amazement to feel her hands sliding around his waist. She hugged him this way from behind, her palms resting lightly on his abdomen. Bastian closed his eyes and drifted softly on the wave of pain medicine he had taken, feeling her holding him and thinking how lucky he was to have this moment.

They didn't speak again.

Elly simply held him until they both started to nod off. He then silently showed her to his bedroom and bowed himself out to sleep on the couch. She tried to protest but he wouldn't allow her anything less and she finally gave in. It was heaven to collapse on the silken sheets that smelled strongly of his cologne and oddly comforting somehow. They both drifted off to sleep more peacefully than they could have imagined possible earlier that day, in different rooms but closer somehow.

The bruises blossomed and grew different colors as the days passed. Bastian ran a hand down his glass sliding door, watching the rain patter down in an endless waterfall. It was beautiful, the wild tropical storm matching his mood perfectly. The darkness leeched away all the color of his bedroom and clothing, making everything appear black or dark gray. It matched his mood and never mind that most of the cloth and silken sheets were those very colors. The lithe young man himself was nude to the waist, his stitching open to the night air. Even the silk shirts he wore caused it to ache when they brushed against it. Thankfully he was comfortable enough without a shirt and he customarily discarded it as soon as he entered his rooms. He tugged absently at his flowing pants, belted with a soft robe-like sash.

He was bassist in the popular group Mister Zero, he had everything he'd always wanted: fame, a good amount of fortune and friends, too. And he thought how ridiculous it was that he couldn't have the one last thing that would make his life complete. Of course it was a woman. Well, in his case it might have been a man as easily but Bastian leaned towards the ladies. Especially for serious relationships.

Serious! He chuckled bitterly to himself. He'd never been going out with anyone longer than two months. The person had either broken up with him or he'd tired of them.

"I have to get up early tomorrow, too," he groaned. The band had interviews with a popular magazine and he needed rest so he didn't appear so haggard. There was even a small photo shoot. He was in his pajamas, the night was dark and beautifully deep with the rushing sound of water and the crashing of thunder in the distance. It was his favorite sound; nature's music at its finest and he always loved to fall asleep to the sound of rain. Bastian was a periodic insomniac, however, and his mind wouldn't shut down tonight to let him get the sleep he so desperately craved. The feel of her hands on his lower belly as she held him that night, the way she'd been crying for him. Her voice as she'd gasped in concern and shock over how bad the wound was. It was all he could think about, running together and together in his head and crashing louder than any thunder. It was a dry wound now, stitched tightly together and he didn't even need to have a bandage over it. The doctor had told him that despite their best efforts he'd probably have a scar when it was healed over. Bastian thought that he wouldn't mind this one. Unlike the hidden line on his chest buried in that feather work of tattoos he would bear this one proudly.

The pale young man sighed, shivering as he remembered her hands lightly clasping his abdomen. She'd held him for a time, gently and lower on his belly to avoid touching the painful wound. And as he moped and stared out the door he had a nagging thought. The man had attacked her because he'd assumed they were in some kind of torrid relationship. Ridiculous. She had a boyfriend and he was the fucking co-owner of Mister Zero. They'd created the band together. He had no chance. Bastian would never get to hold her in his arms the way he wanted to. He'd forced the harsh reality of it at himself so often that it wasn't as sharp a pain anymore. He would never get the chance to bury his face against her smooth neck or even something so simple as dance with her on the beach in the moonlight. Never hear her gorgeous voice cry his name as he slid into her and told her loved her over and over again. His blue eyes closed and tears trickled down his cheeks. He thought he'd gotten over the crying part but there were always more tears. He ran a hand through his hair, disturbing the white shock that fell over his eyes. The bangs were getting stuck on his cheeks, the hair tickling as it caught the wetness and plastered itself to his skin.

"Ah, screw it." The tears flowed freely while his expression remained neutral, almost blank. He walked slowly over to his bed and sat down, sinking his face into his hands in despair. He'd thought maybe she would understand a little after the attack. She knew it had been serious, of course. If the blade had struck her she would have been dead. That crazy man had been lunging for her heart.

He had no idea that at this very moment the woman he was yearning for was crying in her boyfriend's arms. Elly's lavender hair was ruffled up in the back as she buried her head in Surlaw's chest and wept. The brown-haired guitarist was confused as he struggled to soothe her for the fifth day in a row. It was always the same. Night came, and she suddenly collapsed in a terrible fit of weeping. The storm outside was completely overlooked as the one shaking her inside was more violent. He'd slept over almost an entire week and she still wasn't any better.

"Hey, you want me to get you some milk?" He stroked her back and smiled reassuringly at her when she looked up.

"Sorry," Elly choked. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I do this every night. I really don't." She tried to take a deep breath and ended up whimpering. Surlaw took her shoulders in both hands and shook her gently.

"Someone tried to kill you. It's not your fault you're shaken up about it." His tone was firm. "Besides, you have that interview tomorrow and I bet that's making you anxious. You know they'll ask about it."

"I guess."

"No milk?" He grinned down at her when she shook her head wearily. "How about something else to help you sleep, luv?" He reached down and drew her up on his chest. He was sitting with his back propped up on the giant headboard of her bed, three or four pillows propping him up. The sad young woman had been on her side until he pulled her up, cradling her more fully in his arms. They were half-dressed, Surlaw wearing only a loud pair of boxers and Elly in a long t-shirt that rode up as she moved, exposing quite a bit of leg as she wriggled close.

"I just..."

"I didn't mean to piss you off that night." He bent and kissed her forehead and she grew very quiet. They had never discussed the fact that she'd obviously spent the night at Bastian's. Surlaw scratched his nose absently.

"I never..."

"I know." He kissed her more seriously and they stopped talking after that. Eventually sleep came to both as they lay there together with the rain pouring down outside, warm against one another and relaxed. They slept until the morrow, satisfied and together.

Bastian didn't have anyone but he clutched his sickly-sweet devotion to his chest like a stuffed animal, cuddling it against him until he fell asleep as well.

But in his dreams she came to him.

Then, and only then he smiled.

Elly paced nervously around the common room of their little studio. She usually wasn't so self-conscious about interviews but she feared this one might be different. Bastian was still recovering from the horrible attack on her life he had deflected and she knew that the reporter was going to focus often on that.

The entire incident both horrified and amazed her. She hadn't guessed he felt that strongly about her before and now that she knew she didn't know how she felt. But she knew the slightest tremor in her voice or slip in a fake smile would be taken as an admission of something, especially to fans. So she paced the room anxiously, running her hands through the winged-up sections of her cropped purple hair. The other band members were in the room waiting more patiently than her. There was to be a photo shoot before the interviews and they were all dressed up, Bastian of course wearing a loose silk shirt like he'd taken fancy to after the stabbing. It was easier on his back while it healed. It was strange to see him not wearing his long leather trench coat. Julian was dressed in some sort of crazy straitjacket ensemble, the colors black and bright green with his boots that had eyes all over them. Surlaw was unchangeable as always. She smiled when she saw him flick the brim of his worn brown fedora. He'd rejected the paisley jacket and vest combo in favor of a terribly clashing flowered shirt with striped pants. Elly was wearing something she rarely did - a short lavender dress that matched the color of her contacts. Chastity had painted the three little white dots under her eyes as if she was going on stage but kept her makeup otherwise muted. It had taken Surlaw some urging to not "muss her" before the photographer got here - he was particularly taken with how she looked today.

"Settle down luv," he told her quietly, catching her hand as she walked past for the tenth time.

"Maybe it's the dress," she fretted. "I don't wear them and it seems unnatural."

"You look beautiful," Bastian told her. Surlaw raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"But you need to relax," he insisted.

"Bully," she grumped, sticking her tongue out at him. Julian snickered and Surlaw shot him a withering look. She did come and settle down on the couch next to him until the woman and her small staff walked in.

The photo shoot happened very quickly and it centered, as she had feared, around her and Bastian. The papers and magazines gave the fans what they wanted, as always. Although Surlaw and Elly were a hot couple, Bastian's devotion was clearly evident, especially after the incident. Surlaw's expression didn't change but those that knew him saw his eyes darken as the photographer posed the two together. Bastian slipped his shirt down off his shoulders, exposing most of the stitches and bruising for the camera. Elly held him lightly along his waist and all you could see of her besides her hands were her large lavender peering over his shoulder. He dropped his head to the crook of her neck without being bidden and the man laughed with delight.

"Perfect! Get a few of that." Several flash bulbs later Bastian was kneeling at her feet and staring moodily at the camera while his arms entwined her legs. Elly couldn't help blushing and her cheeks were still stained pink while they finished up with a few of the entire band all together. The photographer assured them he would take a few candid shots during the interviews and that would be it. They all trooped together down to the common room again and the Surlaw slipped an arm around Elly's waist as they sat down together. Julian was sitting on one of the little cubes they'd bought in bright colors, having chosen green just because it was his favorite one. He was bouncing around excitedly. He adored these types of things and they almost always went out to eat afterward so it was a win-win situation for him. Bastian was last to enter and he barely glanced at Surlaw hovering somewhat protectively over Elly but instead chose to slump comfortably in a large leather chair. The questions started out innocently enough and they chatted for a time about their work, their latest album and silly things like Julian's clothing and whatnot.

"Speaking of clothing," the woman said, turning to Bastian, "I see you have an unusual necklace there." Surlaw tensed beside her and Elly frowned. What? He'd always had that silver thing - a dragon or something -- around his neck.

"Eh." He shrugged. "When I was in the hospital they gave the piece of the knife they took out back to me. I had someone smooth it out, line it with silver so I could wear it."

"What?" Elly was so surprised she couldn't hide the shock in her voice. "I didn't know that's what that was!" The photographer zoomed in on him holding it up and took a picture. Bastian looked over at the singer in confusion.

"I thought you knew."

"Wow. No... I didn't."

"You're a lucky bastard," Surlaw said sincerely. Bastian looked a little surprised but smiled at the guitarist.

"Yeah, no shit," he joked and they all laughed again, easing the mood.

The article went through with no surprises. The most widely commented-on photos on the internet were the ones with Bastian showing his wound but that was expected. What was unexpected was the sudden rise in a fan base that started "shipping" Bastian and Elly. Fanfiction started to crop up on websites, and they began showing significant signs of Bastian and Elly fanart as well, some of the artists going as far as to private message the band's website with links. Unexpected, yes, but not unwelcome to certain parties. Bastian was thrilled to see images of what he'd never have in reality. He started spending an hour or so at the computer every night under some assumed user names. No one else in the band paid much attention to the art community in that way so he slunk around unnoticed. All in all, they garnered more publicity from that terrible attack than anything could have given them - even another hit.

Julian yawned hugely, scratching at his chest through the ripped t-shirt he wore. His makeup was smeared over his face messily, just the way he loved it and his outfit was in tatters today, torn jeans and all.

"You guys gonna talk all day? I thought we were practicing!" He rapped impatiently on the hi-hat to get their attention, the hissing little cymbal causing them to break their arguing and blink at him.

"Sorry, Julie," Elly said, wrinkling her nose at him cutely. He grinned at her.

"No, it's all right, I just hate arguing." He paused and spun around on his stool, thinking. "Hey!"

"What? You have an idea we didn't?" Surlaw looked grumpy. He was clearly agitated that the photographer had taken a lot of pictures of Elly with Bastian that morning and not himself. Bastian was positively glowing at the moment, his ice-blue eyes lit with such complete happiness that Julian was almost embarrassed for his friend. He watched as the bassist leaned over and said something to Elly at which she giggled.

"Lunch time? Is that what you're thinking?" Bastian ran his fingers across the instrument he held. The bass guitar thrummed deeply and he somehow managed to imitate a rumbling stomach.

"I'm not always talking about food, ass," Julian said in exasperation. "Nah, we're just not into it today. Need a break or something -" he paused when Elly smiled. "Yeah okay, let's get something to eat already! Anything!" He threw his hands up in despair.

Moments later they'd poured out of the van they used for trips out on the town - an old battered thing no one would suspect them of using. Before them reared an upscale burger joint, known to cater to some of the celebrities in the area. It had become one of their favorite hangouts. They walked in and were seated by an ubiquitous man who smiled at them briefly and waved a waitress immediately over. The woman who ran at his call immediately got Julian's attention. The Joker was completely enthralled from the moment he set eyes on her. He sighed lustily. Man, she was hot. His pal could go on and on for hours about Elly - fuck, both of them could (he winced at the thought) -- but this one was ten steps higher. Blond, tanned, and gorgeous as hell. He ordered five more drinks than he usually did just to get her to come back to the table. Unfortunately she seemed to be far too into the dark-haired bassist than him. Julian blew a bright green curl from his forehead and slumped back into the booth sulkily.

"Ah, what's wrong man?" Bastian peered at at him through the circle of an onion ring.

"Clearly I'm not her type." He rolled his eyes.

"Her type?"

"I think she wants you," he teased. Bastian shrugged and looked aside.

"Too bad," he said indifferently. Surlaw opened his mouth as if to say something but made a yerk! sound, sort of like a strangled dog, as Elly elbowed him under the table. He glared at her with narrowed green eyes and she smiled sweetly back.

"No 'gay' comments," she hissed under her breath.

"What, me?"

"I know you."

It was only later when Surlaw and Elly had disappeared back in the studio that Julian told his friend what he thought he'd heard. Bastian's eyes widened boyishly.

"I'm gay?" He asked, his lips quirking. He tried very hard to hold the laughter in but couldn't. He ended up staggering into the building wheezing with a bad case of the giggles while the drummer followed, shaking his head. Good - the couple had wandered into the practice room.

"Bastian, you idiot," he grumped.

"Whaaaat, Julie?" Bastian fluttered his eyes at him and he snickered.

"Cut it out. I'm serious. Why would she say something like that?"

"'Cause I'm bi, man." Bastian stood up and winced a little as the stitches in his back pulled taught. "I bet that bastard tries to make me look like less of a man to her because of it. Why else would she stop him like that?"

"You saw?"

"Yeah. I was gonna ignore it."

"Shit."

"Forget it, you were trying to help or something." He clapped a hand on his back. There was a noticeable tightness around his eyes, however, and Julian groaned inwardly. He had a feeling that Bast would only be pushed around so much by Surlaw until he snapped.

He just hoped everything would work out. It was all he could do as a friend to be there for them all when whatever was going to happen finally happened.

Elly's voice was deep and marvelously rich. She always put real passion into her work, sometimes even crying after a sad performance because she threw herself into it as hard as she could. Bastian had always admired her for this, even before he'd joined the band. There were too many ultra-thin shrieking wannabe singers in the press nowadays with little or no talent. He loved seeing them put in their place by someone they considered "not beautiful".

In retrospect Elly wasn't perfect. It was just that he had tired of pencil shapes and double-d chests that were obviously fake. The personalities went with what you dated, he'd come to realize, and it wasn't worth it anyway. A real woman, real body - somewhat overgenerous but lovely all the same, he mused -- and real voice. That's what counted for them, for Zero. And so she practiced with her instrument like they all did to keep it in working order, except her instrument was herself. Bastian wasn't supposed to be here right now and he knew it but couldn't help spying on her solo session. She sang pieces for warmup that were fun and she liked, pieces sometimes so random it shocked them all. The light from the smaller room than the one they all used was slightly dim but one bulb above her shone on down in a rather conspicuous way. It almost seemed a little too perfect, a personal spotlight that caught her lavender hair in shimmering sparkles. She must have some sort of glitter spray in it for the day, maybe Chastity had found something new for her to try out. And yet no one generally watched their personal sessions so there was no reason for her to try and "impress" anyone. He was a simple devotee, he knew it but didn't care.

"Angel." He smiled with no trace of bitterness. The voice of one, he'd thought when he first heard her. And nothing she could do or say would make him think of her differently.

Elly was obviously enjoying herself immensely. Her head was up, eyes alight and in full-throated voice. Her teeth shone back at him as she sang; she always opened her mouth wide as good vocalists did. He could hear all the words and was dreamily content imagining she was singing for him alone. She sang about the man she wanted, needed, to be swept away and saved like some damsel in distress. And maybe, you know, she was. She didn't have to be a weak woman to want someone to help her through life. It was only natural. Bastian laughed softly to himself. She has someone, you fool. Elly laughed out loud and swept around, her side locks swishing against her ruddy cheeks. Singing always brought color to her otherwise pale face. For some odd reason she was wearing a black tank today and her pale skin, red cheeks and black top nearly blew Bastian's mind. He kept thinking about that old fairy tale where the man wanted a bride with "cheeks red as blood, skin white as snow"... something like that.

God. He was waxing idiotic. Did anyone ever really think like he did or was he just a romantic hack?

"Bast?" A hand was shaking his shoulder. In stunned amazement he realized she had stopped singing and was next to him. "What're you doing here, you nerd?"

"Oh." He blushed and gently rolled his shoulders back, trying to push his shirt off the stitches where it had gotten caught. Elly absently reached over and moved it for him with a barely-there touch. "Thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed that he'd been caught.

"No problem. That's the least I can do for my hero," she said and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Her lips were soft and full and they barely brushed his skin. She was close to him for only a moment, her lavender and vanilla scent lingering longer than she had as she walked down the hallway. Bastian froze, his eyes huge. He stood there for some time after she had left, his hand stealing to the cheek she had kissed.


	7. Chapter Seven

Surlaw yawned a little and punched the button that speed-dialed his girl. He'd almost forgot to let her know where he was going to be that day. The call had come early that morning, and he'd wondered why he hadn't accepted in advance.

"You're where?" Elly's voice crackled on the other end of the line. "Why, Wolfy?" He frowned. She sounded near to tears.

"What's wrong, sweeting?" Nothing except the sound of her breathing then a loud clunk. He blinked, thinking she'd hung up on him but her voice came back firmer than before.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Have fun." She snapped the phone shut, her face pale, and turned to Julian who sat beside her.

"Uh... 'sup?"

"Surlaw's going to be out for the day," she told him faintly. "Photo shoot." She walked off nibbling on a long fingernail to find Chas. She'd probably still be doing Bastian's makeup for the day.

Surlaw stared at his phone for a minute before shrugging and walking onto the set. He spent some time staring at the props while the director of the shoot chatted with a bunch of ladies on the sidelines. This was for a bunch of ads for a new line from the brand of style clothing he loved to wear. The problem, he saw, was the angle the brand wanted to portray. His green eyes widened when the director came forward and started tagging women around him like ornaments.

"I should have known..." Sweating, he did what he was told and lounged with the scantily-clad girls in a number of casual poses. Now he knew why Elly had been so upset - she had known what he hadn't. And yet it wasn't so bad. Didn't she always get to pose with that silly ass for everything now? What was wrong with him doing this, then? He mentally shrugged and continued the shoot.

"Chas?" Elly poked her head in the makeup artist's door. The blond woman greeted her with a warm smile and held her arms open.

"What's up, girl?" She laughed and gestured for her to sit down. "Bastian was just finishing up." She winked at Elly when the singer bit her lip.

"Hey." He smiled at her and held up a hand. He'd had the shark-eye makeup put on today and Elly found herself really looking for the first time at Chastity's work on him.

"Chas, that's perfect for him. You're so freaking great."

"Hey now. I only accentuate what's already 'perfect'," she teased. Bastian wrinkled his nose and she giggled.

"We're done though, right?"

"Yeah." She turned to Elly, gesturing for her to sit in the seat Bastian emptied. The bassist stood and moved to the side, not leaving.

"Is it alright if I hang with you for awhile?" He shrugged, fidgeted with his shirt in that new little habit he'd picked up from the stitches always bothering him. They had started to itch now and while that was great because it meant they were healing good, it pissed him off more than when he had been hurting badly.

"It's fine," Elly said uncertainly.

"What's up?" Chastity frowned in concern.

"Surlaw's going to be at some photo shoot I told him I didn't approve of a long time ago."

"The one with all the girls in like, thongs and stuff?" Chas rolled her big blue eyes. "That 'you'll get all the sexay gurrls in our clothing' idea. Oh boy." She managed to accent the words perfectly and both Bastian and Elly laughed.

"That's the one!" Elly made a face. "I don't like the image it sends out. I don't like the girls, and I told him I didn't want him to go." She paused, then went on in a rush, "We had a big argument about it one night and he doesn't even remember! Or maybe, you know, he does," she added, a strange look crossing her suddenly shocked features. Chastity sighed and picked up a compact, then set it back down again.

"You let him do it, though." Bastian leaned forward over her chair and propped his scruffy chin on the top staring down at her. "Why?"

"I can't stop him. I don't want to," she spat disgustedly. "He needs to not do it because it hurts me. Not because I nag him. We talk about things and it's like he doesn't listen anymore. And he's been yelling at me a lot now... ever since the - the accident."

"Maybe you just need to sit down and try again. He was probably really scared that night and he doesn't know how to handle his emotions. Sometimes guys can be thick-headed. Like, it's bad to cry and stuff."

Elly made a discontent sound but said nothing.

"Yeah, maybe he's right," Chas said absently. "Guys can be thick-headed." She gave him a look that clearly said he was talking too much and he shrugged. She grinned at him and then inevitably rolled her eyes as he stared moodily at Elly. Chastity swung her long blond hair back and stood to the side as if to reach for a makeup brush. She silently mouthed "ask her out" while pointing at the upset singer in the chair to Bastian. He spluttered in shock and she covered a set of fresh giggles with a cough, picking up a takeout menu she had nearby and waving it at him. Bastian's eyes widened. Lunch, hey...

"He's gonna be gone until later then?"

"Eh." She grunted sourly. "I'm being such a bitch. God."

"You are not!" Bastian spoke with such heat that she craned her neck up to blink at him. "I don't think so. You're just nervous. And you know, you did ask him not to but he did anyway."

"It's such a stupid thing to everyone else, right?"

"No, dear," Chas told her firmly. She sat on the makeup stool in front of her friend. "This was important to you and you told him. He ignored you. I'd say that's a big thing."

"He probably didn't think it was that bad," Bastian said again, feeling like he should defend the guy. If he didn't, he'd be guilty later, even if he was only doing this as a friendly gesture. Chas gritted her teeth at him and he frowned, shaking his head. "Come out to lunch with me, Els. I have reservations at that sushi place you love so much."

"Oh my god." Her lavender eyes sparkled. As always, mentioning 'food' had the desired effect on Elly. She wriggled with anticipation. "But who was going to go with you? How did you get two?"

"The tables are two seaters." He blushed a little. "I always get one table just for me." Elly ran a hand through her spiky hair and considered this.

"Only two?"

"Yeah."

"Hm." So they couldn't take Julian and have it look less than a date. She paused only momentarily before thinking about Surlaw with all those girls hanging on him. "Let's go. Okay."

"Let me finish you up first!" Chastity waved her brush around and Elly laughed a little. Her work didn't take long since Elly got far less makeup than Bastian and they were soon heading out the door to the makeup artist's soft cheers of goodbye.

"She's crazy," Bastian carefully rubbed the back of his neck. He had retained his blush by getting excited about being alone with Elly in an intimate setting. Hell, even Julian had taken her out for lunch but he never had! Oh, and speak of the devil...

"Julie!" Elly had beat him to it. Cracking the door open to the main practice room she bawled their drummer's name out. Julian's green curls bobbed into view immediately and she spoke to him in a low voice for awhile, telling him where they'd be.

"We ready?" Bastian couldn't help jittering a little, bouncing on his feet. He reached into his pocket and took his keys out. "I'll drive."

"All righty."

Bastian was nearly vibrating with nervous energy. He'd never been out with the girl of his dreams before, one-on-one, like an actual date. Of course it wasn't actually date, but he could dream, couldn't he? They strolled out of the studio and he made sure to hold the door for her as she climbed into his car. She's never even ridden with me anywhere before, he mused silently as they turned out into the traffic.

Elly glanced around with amusement. Turns out Bastian owned a small but comfortable Honda Element, black but custom-painted along the sides with a design that resembled a tattoo more than anything - a bright red tribal dragon ending in curls that edged around the back. He drove quickly but safely, and they were soon at their destination.

"There we are."

"It's this close?" She looked out the window in astonishment. She'd dozed a little; the sun was warm even though he'd turned the air on and it soothed her. Bastian grinned and veered over to parallel park. He did this neatly and smoothly without a trace of the self-consciousness she always felt and she couldn't help but admire that. They got a few startled looks from people on the sidewalk as they strolled in but neither one really noticed. Bastian took her gently by the hand when she stopped short in the back room, gasping. It was dark but that's not why she had paused. She'd never been here before in the "couples" area and it had a full-wall aquarium on one side of the wall. Elly loved sea creatures and she was taken aback by the beauty of the saltwater tank. What was even better was the fact that Bastian's regular table was close by the gorgeous thing.

The pale young man couldn't take his eyes off of her. He knew he loved her and always thought she was pretty but in her fascination with the creatures that swam in the softly churning bubbles she was something more. Seeing her girlish glee made him unbelievably happy.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" He made a little gesture for her to sit first. The tables were curved, set around a small comfortable two-seater booth. He usually just camped out in the middle, lonely bastard that he was. The room designed to give the suggestion of complete privacy to the couple in each booth, a single row facing the only lighting, the aquarium, save for a candle at their table. It was small but comfortable and he'd liked the invisible feeling.

"I love this, Bastian. I honestly do." She sat and scooted back so he could get in. His heart started to beat much faster when he realized his leg would be touching hers the whole time, perhaps their arms would bump. You're pathetic, he chided himself.

"How come you didn't know about the back room?" He asked out loud.

"We hardly came to this place, let alone came in here."

"Ever?" Bastian rapped absently on the table and held up two fingers at the waiter when he showed up. The man grinned at him and he shook his head sourly. Everyone found so much more amusement in this than he did. He didn't have a date, he was taking a friend out to lunch. The thought somewhat dampened his elation but he kept a tight lid on his emotions and kept smiling. It was hard not to when he saw her squealing softly as she saw a colorful lobster crawl past.

"Nah." She looked sad for a moment and he frowned. "I don't think he likes being around tanks like this. I wanted to go to the aquarium and he put me off too many times."

"Why didn't you go by yourself?"

"I don't like going alone someplace like that. Or the movies, or anything. It's better shared with someone."

"Yeah." Oh, I agree with you, he sighed inwardly. This is the best time I've had here yet. Their waiter came back with a bottle of sake and he poured for them booth. Bastian and Elly ordered and he left as silently as he had come, drifting into the dark like a creature of the deep himself. He picked up his sake cup and, blushing, turned to her.

"Mmm?"

"Hajimete ata tokikara sukidata." He lowered his eyes when speaking, embarrassed but filled with a need to say something to her he'd been holding in for so long.

"So you do speak some other language. Is it Japanese?" He nodded shyly. "And if I'm not mistaken," Elly said, "You probably said something I shouldn't know?" Her purple eyes were dark and wide, matching the blouse she wore today.

"No," he sighed, "You probably should. But let's just say it means 'let's eat' because here comes the food!" It was a nice meal, prepared well and they both throroughly enjoyed themselves. Bastian paid quickly after, checking his watch and exclaiming that they had better get back soon, "or Julie'd be climbing the curtains".

"We don't have curtains," Elly snickered as she got up.

"That means we should leave faster! Man, I love the guy but he's so fucking impat -" He stopped dead in his tracks. As you got up to leave you could see the row of booths and who was inside them. He'd caught a glimpse of a brown hat and hair and no one - no one -- was ballsy enough to keep his hat on inside any restaurant except one that he knew. Plus he recognized the hat. Bastian spun, trying to make it look casual and caught her arm. "Let's look at the tank though, first! I have something to show you."

He wasn't fast enough.

Elly was already staring with a puzzled frown creasing her brow. Bastian's grip on her arm tightened as he felt her tremble. She leaned heavily on him and for a second he thought she was going to faint.

"Bast."

"I know. It might not be him."

"No," she said in a weak voice. "That's his voice."

"Oh, c'mon now, though... we've all gone out to eat with uh, photographers and shit." On the inside, however, Bastian was seething. That was clearly not a photographer or interviewer. That bastard! Any of the band members could have come here together without awkwardness but one of the models from the shoot? The very ones Elly had been angry about him posing with? And, worse yet, this was someplace she'd wanted to go with him and he'd denied her.

"It's all right, let's just go."

"Els?"

"I don't care, I just want to go." He nodded and followed closely by her side as she strode out with her head held high and eyes flashing angrily. She took the long way around, too, deliberately walking in front of the tables. Privately he found her even more attractive in her passion but he was feared she would be hurt if she faced him down. He needn't have worried - Elly walked past the table where her boyfriend and a shapely blond woman were sitting without a backwards glance. Bastian couldn't help looking for himself and was so amused at the expression on the guitarist's face that he couldn't bite back an evil smirk this time. Surlaw's green eyes narrowed dangerously and he thrust his chin out at the man as he calmly ambled past.

Oh, he was going to pay for that later. But it had been worth it.

"Els, wait," he called out and hurried on along. Thank goodness she hadn't driven here. At least he would be able to get them safely back. He wasn't so sure about what would happen afterward though.

But he sure as hell was curious.

Surlaw's nostrils were pinched in anger when he got back to the studio that afternoon. He banged the door open with unnatural force, eyes slit and jaw set. Julian was sprawled over the couch in the common room and he raised his head up from the magazine he'd been browsing when he heard the bang.

"Whoa, what the hell Surlaw, who bunched your panties today?!" He jerked back, lip thrusting out petulantly when the bigger man growled and snapped around to stare at him.

"Where's Bastian?"

"Uh, I don't think I'll tell you right now." Julian sat up and stretched, his green curls bobbing as he moved. He wasn't wearing any makeup today and his face looked strangely naked. "You finally going to tear his throat out with your teeth or somethin'? 'Cause that would make me an accessory."

"Damn it, this isn't a joke this time."

"Don't get my nickname fucked up, pal." The drummer stood and walked over to the angry man. "I'm not so serious all the time, yeah, but you're looking for trouble. I'm not an idiot."

"Damn it!" Surlaw ripped his hat off with one hand and threw it on the table. "SEBASTIAN!" He yelled, getting his voice underneath as if he was singing. The name echoed off the walls for a few moments and Julian finally seemed cowed by his ferocity.

"Fucking insane," he muttered as he walked back to the couch. He felt it was his duty to sit there and maybe call the cops if things got too bad. Sure enough the insult sparked the thinner, smaller young man's appearance. He came into the room frowning and obviously upset.

"You know that's not my legal name anymore."

"Got you here, didn't it? I thought I was going to have to chase you down."

"No hitting!" Julian shouted from the couch but they both ignored him. He vaguely wondered where Elly was and then saw her pale face floating in the doorway.

"What's your problem, then?" Bastian ran a hand through his hair and stared at the guitarist.

"Have you been seeing my girl?"

"Seeing? Every day." He snorted when Surlaw opened his mouth to snap something at him. "Ah, fuck off. No. I'm not sneaking around behind your back with your girl like you were with that one today. What were you doing, anyway?"

"Business," he said curtly. He rolled his shoulders back, some of the suspicion fading from his emerald-green eyes. He reached for his hat, jammed it back on his tousled brown hair, sitting abruptly on one of the cubes they had spread around. "She wanted to go there."

"In the back room?"

"So?"

"Whatever. I told you I wouldn't get involved but I have limits, you know. I didn't give a crap when she was happy, but now it's different." Bastian shook his head and turned around. Elly was gone from the door and neither one had seen her come and go. Julian had been watching the whole time, though. He'd caught the flicker of fear in her eyes when Surlaw had rounded on the smaller man and the anger after when he'd failed to exonerate himself.

"All right. Damn." He paused. "I'm not bloody likely to convince her, either. I think." Bastian shrugged and left the room without another word. Julian raised an eyebrow at the sulking guitarist after he had gone.

"You can be an ass sometimes, you know that, Wolf?"

"Ah, fuck you." Surlaw kicked at the table. "So - she gets to go out and get all these photo shoots with that bastard and I get what? To stand around like the third wheel when I'm not? He's supposed to be that!"

"So you take a girl out to lunch? What the hell! Talk to her!"

"Damn it."

"Sorry man, you screwed up. You better try and apologize or something... if you can find her."

She needed to relax after all this shit.

Elly stormed off to her dressing room where she ripped off her clothing and put on a bikini. The beach always soothed her, so moments later she was laying on her favorite beach blanket, relaxing in the warm sun and dozing off to the sound of the waves gently combing the shoreline of their private strip of sand. She had no clue how long she had been there since time oozed slowly together on the beach like a handful of wet sand dribbled deliciously between the fingers. But before her skin had started to smart she felt a light touch on her shoulder.

Ah, Surlaw must have followed her outside. Maybe he wanted to apologize or talk about what had happened. He used to come out here a lot and they would curl up together on the sand, nuzzling and soaking up some sun before going back inside to clean up and work again. She stretched luxuriously, smiling as his hands gently kneaded her back.

"Mmm, that feels good." Strangely quiet, today, but that was all right. He didn't answer but bent down to kiss her neck. It was then that she smelled the faint smell of smoky incense and her eyes snapped wide open. The kiss brushed her skin, barely touching, and she shivered despite herself.

She suddenly knew why she cried at night.

She knew. Now she knew. Elly wanted to leap up and smack him, tell him off in a loud voice, anything. But she was laying here torn with indecision ...no, to be fair she was actually enjoying herself. It was wonderful and his kiss had sparked with electricity in that special way few others had managed to make her feel. Her throat worked but no sound came out, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. And though she didn't speak his hands stopped moving and he sighed.

"You tensed up." A long pause. "You knew it was me."

"Ah... "

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, kneeling beside her in the sand, bending down again to speak close to her ear. She turned her head and blushed seeing his face so close. His eyes were so pale and beautiful. Clearer and lighter than the waters of the ocean, though still troubled. "I won't ever do that again. I just - I couldn't take it anymore, I..." He closed his eyes, hung his head.

"Bastian," Elly murmured quietly, "If he had seen you, what would have happened?"

"I don't know. All right, he'd have decked me or something. I deserve it. But why didn't you?" She licked her lips, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tell, that's her tell, Bastian thought wildly. She's going to lie to me!

"Making a noise would have brought everyone out here." Bastian's heart beat crazily in his chest. Okay, it was truth - but not the whole. He knew Elly wasn't stupid and the trick to a good lie was telling a partial truth inside it. Yes, if she had screamed or caused a fuss Julian or Surlaw might have heard. But it wasn't the only reason, he thought. She wouldn't look him in the eye now and her face was prettily red across her cheeks and nose. Blushing? He made her blush, how had he done that?

"Listen," he began cautiously, "I know I shouldn't have gone behind his back and all, but I want to see more of you."

"Bast..."

"No, wait. You might not know it but you're always there - here --" he tapped his chest, "and you won't go away. I'm serious. We have to talk about it."

"All right," she sighed, sitting up. He sucked in a great rush of air and only managed to steady himself by looking away. Her bikini flattered her shape, high cut on the bottom but not on top so she would have the support she needed. He'd only caught a small glimpse of the sweat on her cleavage and nearly passed out.

"Now? Really?"

"In my dressing room, not here." She stood and picked her towel up. Bastian nodded, unable to speak. He followed her silently, padding on barefoot feet through the wet sand and skipping quickly past the dry area where the ground was hot. They slipped unnoticed back into the studio and the small room she used to store her stage outfits for concerts. Elly carefully listened for a while in the hall and then nodded, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Now?"

"Yeah." Her shoulders slumped a little. "You know I'm dating him, Bastian."

"Not me. I know." He was closing the distance as she spoke. She wasn't paying attention, her mind troubled and focused more on the rare choice of bright color he was wearing today. Red seemed so ominous. His tank that day had been soaked in red blood, his shirt today was the same color. It mesmerized her in a way, her mind caught on that moment when he had passed out in her arms after saving her life. It had been a barbed fish hook in the soft meat of her brain since the day it happened, yanking her this way and that. She'd cried in the arms of her boyfriend for weeks afterward from the agony without knowing why. It didn't help to understand the torment now, though. How could she have fallen for someone else while being in love with another? This frustrated her.

"What?" She blinked. He'd been saying something. She glanced up and saw him directly in front of her, eyes softly burning with unmistakable intent.

"I asked if you were happy. You haven't looked that way lately. Especially after the other day." There was raw fear in her purple eyes as she unwittingly contemplated his question. Bastian didn't think, he just reached out to comfort her.

"No, don't," she gasped but his arms were around her and there wasn't anywhere to back away to. She panted in agitation, eyes darting this way and that although she knew they were alone and locked in besides. No way out. This was it, the way it had to be. Bastian was sad to see her panic - she was like some trapped exotic bird. Her gorgeous voice thrilled with terror and something else, low under the nervousness.

"Please, anything," he whispered. "Hit me, push me away. I'll stop. I promise." He stared her full in the face, eyes moist. His was breathing hard as well, not from exertion but agitation. She smelled good, her body was warm and every time she moved against him he tensed slightly. Her hand came up, trembling in the air inches from his face. Bastian smiled sadly and closed his eyes, offering her his pale, flawless cheek.

Do it, DO IT...

Elly dropped her hand with a sob, letting it fall on his shoulder and clutching the red silk of his shirt. She didn't want to grab his back for fear of hurting his wound and for some reason this made her feel felt even more helpless. Bastian opened his eyes as slowly as he'd closed them, thick lashes fluttering. He was holding her in his arms and she hadn't rejected him. He had to move before his body betrayed him in any way; already he felt dizzy with triumph, passion, the emotions swirling through his blood. Christ, he was sick. He never thought that it would hurt because it felt so damned right.

Bastian closed the difference between them and placed his mouth on hers. He heard her whimper and slipped a hand up the back of her neck, cupping her head and gently pulling her towards him. And yet he couldn't hold a calm pose however hard he tried and began to cry her name softly in exaltation.

"Bast-" Opening her mouth to whisper she was cut off by his flickering tongue. He deepened the kiss, feverishly struggling to show her what she meant to him all at once. He knew he couldn't succeed but he certainly tried, pressing slow and delicate and - yes, she was responding. Her body was relaxing, her long-fingered hands cold but gripping him in the unmistakable way a person would grasp at their only hope of salvation. He broke the kiss suddenly, shaking all over.

"Oh," he panted. "Oh, oh, my god."

"What did I..." She placed hand over her lips. "What did I do?!"

"Please don't." He caught her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes, so pale in her worry. "It's my fault but I don't want to hurt you." He shook his head, white forelock swinging.

"I don't know what's happening anymore," Elly confessed. "I don't know what to do!"


	8. Chapter Eight

"...just don't forget that. Please don't forget my kiss. I'll do anything, nothing. Whatever you want." He swallowed hard suddenly and stumbled forward towards the door. Elly stepped silently aside for him as he fell against it with a loud thump. His eyes widened and he fumbled with the lock, finally turning it and rushing from the room as if frightened. She supposed that was true, she thought absently.

God knew she was.

"Let's try this again." Bastian grinned at Julian from where the drummer was comfortably seated on a stool in front of some bongos.

"Sure, man," he grinned. "Fun and productive."

"Hell yes." Bastian ran his fingers lightly over his guitar strings and began strumming. Julian followed with a patted beat and then the pale young man started to sing.

Elly leaned against the door and watched them. Bastian's voice was smooth and matched his playing well. He had in his hand an acoustic guitar resting lightly on his faded jeans. A black silk shirt was open in the front, showing his feather tattoos and the thin silver chain he was wearing. On it swung the little piece of metal that had been the knife sliver they had taken from the wound in his back. He wore it proudly but not in a hurtful way. Rather he seemed to want to remember his mortality and how close he would have been to death if the ambulance hadn't arrived on time.

And he loved her.

She walked into the room and he blushed charmingly. It was an effeminate thing but she found it endearing. Elly knew he would do anything for her. It wasn't a question anymore after the kiss they had shared in her dressing room. And he finished the song, too, his ice blue eyes never leaving hers even when he felt the heavy stare of another person from the doorway.

"Practicing?" Surlaw clacked into the room, his boot heels coming down heavily to clack in the now-silent air. Bastian sighed half-angrily. The man had absolutely no right to be possessive of her when her glare clearly told him they hadn't worked their differences out yet. But he shrugged and waved a hand in the general direction of the beach, his mock barb-wire bracelets clinking.

"Yeah, was just gonna go have lunch on the beach though."

"Burgers?" Julian's eyes lit up.

"Uh, yeah - you brought them remember?"

"Oh yeah." Julian leaped off the drum stool and raced out the door at breakneck speed. "Meet ya there!"

"I'm buying him that Wimpy shirt I saw the other day. Really," Elly murmured as she watched him leave. Surlaw came up behind her and tried to snake his arm around her waist but she stepped to the side, her face drawing in dangerously.

"There's extra if anyone wants to join us." Bastian prudently left the room as fast as his legs would carry him. Surlaw's expression had been incredulous and somewhat angry as well. He'd come back later to see if she was all right; they needed to be alone right now.

"What the hell was that?"

"Well." She faced him, arms crossing. "You'd like to talk now? Couldn't you have tried earlier?"

"Okay. Maybe I just made a mistake." He blew out a huge gust of air and sat on one of the practice stools. "Can't I do that?"

"You deliberately went out with someone else, from the shoot I told you I didn't want you to go to. First, I'm pissed that you didn't remember we talked about it. Second, you probably did because you're jealous. You said you weren't and you are." She paused and slammed a fist on her leg.

"Of that git?" He pointed at Bastian's back - they could still see him walking out the hallway. "No!" Oh, so stubborn even when he saw her eyes widen in pain. Letting her know he'd been jealous would have soothed her pride but he cut that option away with a single shout.

"You want to see other people then?" Elly stood up, brows drawn together. She was very pale but gave no other sign of distress.

Surlaw had two choices at that point. He could have embraced her and told her he'd never abandon her love or something suitably romantic. In his irritable mood he didn't even think of doing that.

"This is stupid!" He shouted vehemently. "I'm not going to sit around and listen..."

"No," she said softly, decisively. "You won't. You stopped listening a long time ago, didn't you." She walked over to him and hugged him briefly. Surlaw blinked at the tense set of her body. This wasn't the kind of hug they shared, a "friends" hug. His eyes widened in alarm as she backed out of the room.

"What the f-"

"You don't have anything good in you now, Wolfy," she said in a small voice. "If you're weren't trying to get back at me then you wanted to see her. That means you don't really want me." And maybe I don't want you, she thought sadly. Maybe I'm just clinging to our relationship for some other reason.

"Oh god damn it!" He scrambled to his feet but she had started to run as she left the doorway, holding her hands in front of her pressed to her mouth. He pelted off after her as fast as he could run but she was lighter and had the lead. He ended up staring stupidly at the tail end of her car as she sped off. Unluckily for Bastian he had heard the yelling and came back to see what was wrong at exactly that point.

"What's -" He hissed and bent backwards as the bigger man's fist swished through the air at his belly. "Crap, you idiot! Knock it off!" He flattened himself in a ready crouch along the floor, hands up to defend himself should the furious man come at him again. He felt some of the stitches in his back pop free as he moved and winced. He'd been trying to take care of it but now he was going to have a mark along his shoulder blade for sure.

"Yeah. Won't do any good." Surlaw's shoulders slumped but his head came up. "Except maybe make me feel better." The sunlight glinted off his lavender-framed shades and Bastian groaned.

"No it won't. We're supposed to work together. She wouldn't want to break us all up. Don't let it happen." He straightened, brushing the front of his chest off and straightening his shirt flaps.

"Good point." He grunted.

Bastian nodded. He didn't feel any particular triumph at the moment, though the big man's face was ravaged by guilt. What he hadn't wanted was her to be hurt and it had sounded bad. He sighed and rubbed the knife sliver around his neck.

"Let's call it a day," he suggested and was relieved when Surlaw nodded curtly. He went straight back to his condo, resisting the urge to call her or see if she was at her place. But to his surprise she was standing outside his door when he got there.

"You weren't home yet," Elly said simply. Her eyes were red with crying, lavender hair too short to be messy but her side locks weren't tucked behind her ears. She was reeling slightly as if she were about to fall. Bastian leaped nimbly forward and caught her before she managed to trip or anything.

"Why didn't you go to Chas, she would have taken care of you..." He cradled her in his arms, somehow managing to open the door and lead her to the couch. His hands were full of keys, guitar, and woman all of a sudden.

"I wanted you?" She sounded so pitiful that he found a lump forming in his throat.

"Listen, you're crazy upset. You need to be someplace where you can't feel like you made a mistake later..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He couldn't speak for the lump now, it choked him. Dear Lord, her eyes. They stared up at him, huge and pale and filled with tears. Bastian put down his bass and flung the keys on a table. He sat down beside her on the couch and held out his arms wordlessly. He was assaulted by the sobbing woman so hard that he was almost thrown backwards onto the floor. She clung desperately to his shirt, burying her face in his chest and weeping, weeping for her broken heart.

He hoped he could fix it somehow without breaking up anything else: his body when Surlaw found out what was likely going on, the band, his own heart again.

You know, little things.

It was just that Elly didn't understand anything anymore. She'd cried herself into oblivion that night at Bastian's and after that she had been alone every time she came home. No one to be with. No one to hold her, no comfort except what she could give herself, cold comfort in a bucket of margarita mix for the most part.

It didn't help.

Surlaw seemed content with their breakup. She was hoping he would try and win her back, say something, anything ... that he might think her worthy of an apology she felt she deserved. If he'd have given her one she might have taken him back. But he was stubborn, strong-willed and angry. She'd thought he loved her more than his pride. She couldn't have been more wrong. Elly sobbed faintly and covered her mouth with her long-fingered hand. Her nails were clipped very short now as she had managed to tear her skin the other night when she clawed in anguish at her cheeks. Try explaining that to the press. Thank God for Chastity, their talented makeup artist. The woman could hide the faint marks today when she had to go to that awards ceremony.

Alone.

She sniffed and plodded half-heartedly across her apartment kitchen in the evening hour, the windows open in the room and beautiful twilight mocking her. She irrationally hated it and snarled, reaching out to snatch the curtains closed.

"I used to like these things!" Elly ran from the room and flung herself on her blue-sheeted bed. It was a water mattress and the bed sloshed alarmingly as she flailed against it. "Oh, god I'm so pathetic! I - I'm so lonely. I want, I want him. I don't know what I want," she gasped wearily. She had to start getting ready to go to the studio so she could dress up and get her hair fixed; all the minute little details that went into making her "stage Elly" for an event. She didn't even want the coffee that was brewing in the pot and she rolled off the bed and walked back into the kitchen, jabbing angrily at the button that stopped the coffee machine. The only thing she paused to do besides grab her keys off the table by the door was feed her fish. The tank was her pride and joy even if it was tiny and its only inhabitants were some small glow fish she had purchased locally from an independent shop.

"Sorry guys, I'll be home late," she muttered and slammed the door.

"Yoohoo, there!" Chastity was waiting for her in the makeup room. The slender blond woman was their clothing coordinator as well and she nodded in approval when she saw how Elly looked in the dress she'd chosen. "Oh, good. I was hoping you'd like it."

"It's not too showy, that's what I like." Elly smiled wanly and stepped inside. "Is - is Surlaw around?"

"He left already. Came in a half an hour before and asked for advice."

"Advice?" She raised en eyebrow. He'd never really liked Chastity. In fact, now that she thought about it he had always been grumpy around everyone but herself. Her eyes grew moist and she choked back the tears that wanted to fall. Chas sighed, not liking it but wanting to warn her friend before she saw in public.

"He was bringing someone with him," she plowed on as quickly as she could. He had a date? Elly faltered and Chastity caught her arm. He was going to the event with someone so soon after their breakup? He couldn't have loved her. Oh god, she was so stupid to think he would be upset about it. She whimpered and placed a shaky hand over her eyes.

"Whoa, girl. It's rough but you have to cope."

"But - but I ..."

"Hi, pretty." Elly craned her neck around. Bastian stood in the doorway wearing finery that could only be classified as Gothic Victorian. It suited him well, a ruffled blue poet shirt tucked into a generously flared velvet jacket that fell to mid thigh in tails. His pants were also neat brushed velvet and he wore boots so highly polished and black they almost looked purple. Chastity had worked her magic brushes on him again and he had the shark blue makeup on that Elly had said complimented his seawater eyes so well. Black and blue, she thought with some amusement, amazed that she could find something to smile about at all. "I heard you might need an escort this evening."

Before she could say anything he quirked a smile and glanced down as if embarrassed at his boldness. Chas was sighing beside her and elbowing her gently in the ribs.

"All right." She wondered if the woman had picked her clothing out deliberately seeing as she had on an outfit that looked like it came out of the movie Titanic, the only difference being that the material matched Bastian's. She saw the woman beside her smiling and knew she had. "You ...augh," she sighed and sat down in the chair to get her makeup finished. 

She was nervous as they rode in the back of the limo. It was all well and good to know her ex-boyfriend had another woman by his side but she just didn't know how to handle it in its gruesome reality. Bastian had been quiet for most of the ride but as they approached he leaned over and took her hand.

"I'll be there," he said firmly.

"Thanks, Bast," she told him softly. "Prop me up, huh?" And she smiled wearily. They pulled up to the building and all thought ceased once again as she panicked. They didn't see the commotion Surlaw had made as he walked down the carpet but he'd caused a huge stir by walking steadfastly inside with an unknown woman. The press was having a field day with it like they always did. Now that it was "the big moment" Elly was sad and more than a little scared. How would everything work out? She hated the unknown. When Bastian climbed out of their limo he knew instinctively that this could be good for her, maybe snap her out of her dull reverie. He got out, stood to adjust the tails of his tux in a sweeping movement and gracefully extended his hand towards the open door. A large silver ring he wore on one finger sparkled in the artificial light set up for the media.

This was shock enough.

Bastian had never gone to any events with anyone, preferring to stroll moodily down the segway by himself. Flashbulbs popped and snapped and there were literal screams as Elly appeared, looking around her in confusion. The young man smiled and went one step further by catching her hand tightly in his, swinging her about to his side in an extravagant display. The media and fans crowded along the sidelines loved it but he was only focused on her, trying to read her expression and relieved when she didn't look upset.

"Show off," she gasped.

"When I have you with me? I want the world to know it." Elly glanced at the rows of cameras crowded along them on either side.

"I think it does now," she said dryly. Bastian laughed in sheer delight and linked his arm with hers, walking along and ignoring the shouted questions.

"Don't listen," he said clearly. "We don't have to sit by anyone specific tonight. I'll make sure that we're far away from them if that helps." Her grateful look nearly broke his heart but all he did was gently squeeze her arm in reassurance. True to his word, he did this faithfully the whole night. If it looked like Surlaw and his mystery date were getting anywhere near them he quickly led her away a safe distance, changed the subject if anyone asked what had happened in such deft and amazing ways that she began to look at him as more than her hero - savior, even.

He was too good to be true.

This made her mind and heart shudder in queasy anticipation. An eternity later the ordeal was over, however, and he followed her to her apartment door to see her home. Knowing that they were probably being tailed for photo opportunities even though the hallway seemed secure, she asked him to step inside instead of say goodbyes in the open. He agreed and once inside thanked her very humbly for the opportunity to be with her that night.

"May I kiss you good night?" Bastian pressed a gentle hand to her cheek and touched her lips with his thumb as if preparing them for his own. She nodded wordlessly. "Thank you," he whispered before brushing his lips on her own. His intricate manners were sweet but she sensed awkwardness behind his touch. When he would have deepened the kiss she shook her head.

"Bast, stop." He backed immediately away, going so far as to place his hands behind his back. His blue eyes stared at her quizzically.

"I'm sorry."

"You know how I feel about you, sort of. I'm not sure yet. And I keep seeing his face," she choked, catching her lower lip adorably between her teeth.

"Yeah, okay," he murmured. "But I don't want to take his place, I want to be in the one he left behind, make a better one." He tapped carefully above her left breast.

"Mr. Libache," she said a bit breathlessly, "do you spend evenings writing these lines down or do they really come naturally to you?" He hung his head, the white forelock swinging down to hide his face.

"I sound like some sort of poser, don't I?" He coughed in a barely-audible voice. Elly blinked. He was so moody - one moment happy and the next completely downcast and apologizing for something she'd mentioned only jokingly. She sighed. Whatever mood had been there between them had been dampened, memories of Surlaw in this apartment kissing her in this exact spot coming back to her with full force. She tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"No, you don't. It's just too soon." He looked up shyly and nodded when she spoke. "I need some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  
"Good night," he told her quietly.

"You too." She stood watching the door for a time after it closed, mind jumbled with too many questions and desires. She was alone again. Was he? Everything she thought she knew about him was apparently wrong. Was he loving another in the bed she had lain in only a week or so before? "Oh god," she whined, her hand stealing to her mouth again to clamp tightly over it. Once she got out of this dress she was going straight to the semi-frozen bucket of alcohol in her freezer and not stopping until she couldn't see him anymore. Her rush to peel the outfit off was panicked, movements jerky. She had to stop the thoughts, had to make everything go away.

Julian grumbled to himself as he took a deep drag of the cigarette he held in one hand. Everything was great on the surface, fuck, their performances were more electric than before with all the emotions sparking about the band members. But this couldn't be good. There wasn't any defined sense of "closure" between the men. Surlaw still appeared angry around Bastian and Bast - well. He stubbed the cigarette out on the wall and cracked his neck thoughtfully. His friend was devoted, blinded by his love to everything else around him. Julian saw how Elly couldn't hide the pain in her expression when she spoke to her former lover. Until she got over Surlaw, his poor smitten buddy didn't have a chance. And it wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

"Yo."

"'Yo'?" the drummer snickered derisively. "Who the hell says that anymore?"

"I do, you spaz." Elly waved him in. "Get your ass back. We're going to record the new track." Julian rolled his shoulders, getting his arms prepped. The song was a sad one, of course. It didn't have a hard drumming line and for that he was sort of grateful - the last few had been rough. He loved a challenge, but he sweat like a madman and was drenched completing a single song. Not fun.

Everything went smoothly and the recording came out good enough to soothe everyone's ruffled feathers with pleasure at another job well done. He was glad. He fucking hated drama and there had been too much of it in their little circle lately. He walked over to Bastian in the common room as everyone was going their separate ways, tugging on the ripped t-shirt he wore.

"Can I bum a ride today? I don't wanna walk. Got a date and it might make me late or something."

"Sure." Julian didn't own a car. He hated them and said he'd give up on walking or riding a bike when he got his legs amputated for some reason. He wasn't amiss to taking rides from band members though and was glad enough to hop into the bassist's black, boxy vehicle. He'd get home faster and have more time to dress. A ripped shirt and jeans wasn't good enough for a date. Plus he was still wearing his makeup and he wasn't sure he wanted to tonight.

"Don't party too hard," Bastian chuckled as he pulled up to the gates of the community. Only he knew how rarely it was that Julian managed to find a woman that wanted to go out with him. Most of the time he managed it only because they only wanted to be seen with a member of the band.

"Aw, shut up." Julian yawned. "I gotta get ready for my date, 'right? See you later." He waved and slammed the door shut. Bastian honked once and drove away. The fact was, the green-haired man thought as he walked up the path to the condo he owned, he'd been getting more dates than usual lately.

"Huh," he grunted as he kicked at the door frame where a large spider was crawling. "'That's 'cause I'm the free one." Bastian was unavailable, as was Elly. Surlaw was an enigma; most didn't know how to approach him and he had been known to laugh in some ladies' faces so there was fear of rejection there. He slipped inside the air conditioning and sighed with bliss. Then he frowned. The phone was ringing. That was odd, because the land line hardly rang. Most of his friends called his cell. He picked it up without thinking and jerked back, teeth baring when he heard the voice on the other end.

"What the hell? Mom?" Her voice was as strident and unpleasant as he remembered. She was shrieking in apparent anguish, telling him something he already knew. Something terrible that he'd tried to forget as much as her.

"It happened fucking half a year ago! I'm the only one left so you call me? Good thinking. I'm just as dead. Get that in your thick skull!"

He paused, eyes narrowing as he listened.

"Really? Maybe you and Dad shouldn't have beat the crap out of me when I was a kid. Go cry to your Bible. It still loves you." He slammed the phone back down in it's cradle. They wouldn't leave him alone. He'd thought they were gone but they would never leave him alone. No.

Veera.

He knew it had happened, the authorities back home had contacted him about it months ago. They wanted to know what might have caused her to do it.

Torture?

They wouldn't believe him. He knew because he'd tried to get away when he was young, to tell people what was happening and they'd only written him off as an unruly teenager. There had been no escape until he was old enough to get on a plane by himself. He'd gotten away and was alive because of it. Vee hadn't managed it and she'd taken the only way out she knew. His miserable parents hadn't bothered to invite him to the funeral, either, and while that was expected it made him angrier about the phone call. She had found him, even though he'd worn the makeup and used a stage name. Like Vee had. The Gardai had told him they had found clippings showing him performing in Mister Zero, articles and little things that proved she had known her brother through any disguise. He had to wonder if it was then that she thought he had abandoned her. If it had been then she'd done it.

He was sure his parents had then twisted his sister's memory into some religious Godfest and he didn't.

Want.

To think.

About it.

Unbidden, his mind kept wandering over his memories of her. Her hair had been more carroty than his and she'd always hated it. She got punished less often than he had but still enough, no one had been safe in their household. Transgressions were usually so slight as to be unnoticeable by the children and were punished by flogging or being locked away in a closet with scarcely any light and only a Bible for company. He had been "home sick" from school many times when he'd been perfectly fine aside from being holed away in that musty little room. Vee had cried a lot and always capitulated in the end, tired and hungry from lack of food and care. But despite this she had always smiled and hugged their folks a lot. She had been a demonstrative person, given to sneak attacks of kisses that would cause him as an older sibling to shout in disgust and try to get away. But he hadn't really minded all that much. And now he'd never feel those weak little arms around him again.

He understood why she had done it. He'd contemplated suicide a few times growing up in that household too. Fuck, fuck - why, though? Such a stupid mistake, he should have rescued her somehow from that mess but he'd backed out, ran away to America and tried to forget everything. The drugs and the alcohol had done that all right. He'd forgotten her and she'd known it. Maybe the only thing that had kept her alive had been the promise he'd made to her as he snuck out the last time. He'd come back for her.

His face twisted with fury, made all the more horrible by the makeup he wore which was now washed clean in two lines on his cheeks by hot, angry tears. "Shut the hell up! Shut the hell up and leave me alone!" he yelled at the unfeeling plastic that had reminded him. He bared his teeth and slammed the phone so hard he smashed the plastic and cut his hand rather badly. The pain brought him out of the fog of rage and he squeezed his eyes tight.

Now he had to wrap this up before he got dressed for his date. More importantly, though... he looked around and found a thick, rolled-up smoke on his counter by the kitchen. Julina darted over and snatched at it eagerly, digging around in his pocket for his lighter. A few moments later he was calmer and able to think more clearly. That is to say, it was time for fun again.

No time for thinking.

Bastian had red roses in a vase on the dining room table and petals scattered on the porch mostly gathered all around the hot tub rim. He tugged on the scruff of dark hair at his chin and snapped his fingers, darting into the kitchen to get the chilled champagne from the fridge. As he was pouring ice into the bucket that was to hold the rather expensive bottle he thought she might be near and walked over to the window by the door.

Sure enough, he saw her. She was holding the little skunk he had sent her and looking around like she had never seen the place before. As well she might, he thought with a smile, because he had strewn the pathway to his door with more petals. Getting permission from the surrounding neighbors hadn't been difficult and most had expressed open admiration for such a beautiful gesture. Bastian put the CD in as soon as he saw her coming closer along the walkway. Music flooded the condo, soothing cello and bass with violins adding melody, a gorgeous classical sound. He spared no expense with his music system and it was the best he had ever owned.

He took a deep breath and opened his robe. He had on close-fitting black swim trunks underneath the black silk that had bright blue flames embroidered lightly along the sides.

"There you are," he whispered as the bell rang.

The doctors had said he was healed enough to enjoy the hot tub again and he was certainly going out of his way to make sure he did just that. He answered the door with a sweeping rush of his arm, bending his gaze down at the floor as if too shy to take in her beauty. He heard her intake of breath as she heard the music, saw the lighting, his outfit.

"That's why she's wearing this, I suppose?" She held up the skunk with an amused smile touching her lips. The little plush was decked out in a dark purple bikini with skulls on it. "You remembered I collected stuffed animals... and knew I'd know the skunk meant you."

"I also know the swim suit is your size," Bastian murmured. "I checked with Chastity." He straightened and gestured for her to enter, which she did slowly, as if in a dream. "Is it tasteful enough?"

"It's lovely, Bast."

"Good," he sighed with relief. "I was...worried." He grinned crookedly at her. "I didn't want you to think I had anything else in mind other than relaxing with you." She paused in the act of working the suit free of the stuffed body and raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Really?"

"I mean it. Not even a kiss tonight unless you initiate it. Just the setting... you and I." He watched her visibly unwind. Perhaps she'd been thinking he was like any other man. Why she would do that, though, he couldn't understand. He'd proven to her time and again he wasn't. Anyway he gestured towards the bathroom and told her if she desired to change she could in there; he was going to go soak in the tub himself. If she didn't want to he'd placed chairs along the side as well. He grabbed two glasses and the bucket of champagne as well as he slipped out the sliding glass door. He had speakers outside so the music streamed softly even out here. He sighed, slipped his robe off and sank into the cool water. Bastian had decided to turn the massage setting on and the water bubbled and soothed him, tickling his skin in various areas. Damn, he'd missed this. He reached over and poured two glasses, leaving hers along the side. The pale young man toyed with the stem of his as he leaned back and closed his eyes. He didn't even open them when he heard her step into the tub next to him until she spoke.

"This is too lovely," she moaned in near-rapture. Bastian's cheeks flushed and he took a sip from his glass to cover his pleased expression. She was leaning comfortably, her head lolling back while her fingertips grazed the bubbling waters much as he had been. He resisted an insanely strong impulse to kiss the beating pulse in her neck and only barely succeeded.

"I'm glad."

"So, Bast? Your back...?"

"Nnnmm?"

"It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"It aches in weird weather," he shrugged. "The stitches are almost all gone, though, and soaking like this might help get the last of them." He saw her inquiring look and turned obligingly in the water. "See?"

"Did they say when the bruising would be gone?" He shivered as he felt her light touch on his back. When she saw she hadn't hurt him she grew slightly bolder and traced the rough skin and faint black lines that were almost gone.

"N- no," he coughed a little to cover his sudden, stifling arousal. Her hand hadn't left his back and she was gently stroking him.

"Wow, this doesn't even hurt anymore?"

"No," he wheezed.

"Bastian?"

"It doesn't hurt, I swear it doesn't hurt!" He squirmed around, gently taking her hand in his. His discomfort was greatly accentuated by the fact that the timer started to go off in the kitchen at this point, beeping stridently. Bastian's icy eyes grew huge. Talk about awkward, if he got up now she would notice what her gentle touches had done to his body. He swallowed hard and asked her to close her eyes. Elly's lips twitched and she cast a sly look down into the frothy water. She closed her eyes though and he clambered up out of the tub and wrapped a towel quickly around his waist. She stayed quietly where she was, eyes closed, small beads of water caught in her spiky lavender hair. Her lips parted slightly and she sighed when she heard the door slide open again.

"Back," he murmured. The water surged as he stepped into the tub. "Everything's ready but it's a bit hot. We might as well let it cool down."

"All right." She leaned forward and he gulped. "Bastian, I'm not going to bite you."

"Oh." He actually sounded disappointed which made her giggle. "Oh, no, I mean - uh, I meant what I said before! I'm not trying to, you know..."

"Bastian." Her firm tone stopped him as he flailed helplessly along. "Stop worrying so much."

"I want everything to be perfect for you," he said earnestly, his heart in his eyes.

"Life's not perfect," she told him quietly. "I'll settle for honest. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes." Bastian gripped her hand more tightly than he had before.

"Good. Now comes the hard part."

"Anything."

"Where can I get another towel?" He stared at her for a moment and burst out into such laughter as she'd never heard from him before.

Surlaw glanced aimlessly out the window of the Zero van, his bushy eyebrows drawing together as he scowled. Water was hitting the glass from a hot summer storm and he didn't like the rain. The rain and the beach reminded him of things that made him angry now. Yes, anger. Fury was safer. He clenched his fist, sideburns bristling. He'd been this way for weeks now, unable to stop his emotions from getting the better of him every time he saw them together.

"What the hell, man. You gotta relax." Julian climbed over the seat in front to glare at him. "You're giving me a fucking complex."

"I am relaxed. Wanker." He slumped down in his seat, trying to appear nonchalant.

"They went ahead, you won't have to see any of that." Surlaw grit his teeth under the shadow of his worn fedora.

"I don't care about that. Why does everyone think I care about that?"

"Whatev." The drummer flicked his green curls over his shoulder and went back to watching the scenery roll past. It wasn't long before they pulled up to the back area of their latest gig, a neat little club on the outskirts of town. It was an upscale joint and he reflected upon the time when they'd played in tiny little dives for free drinks.

His green eyes narrowed but he would have rather died than show the least bit of emotion on his face as they walked onstage. He glanced blandly at the bassist as the skunk-striped man hovered close by her side. She waved a hand at him and he laughed, then pointed to a piece of paper she was holding. They appeared to be deep in discussion about something that didn't involve him at all. Julian had jumped out the back of the van to personally watch the unloading of his precious drum set so he was alone in the shadows for now.

He could only see the black leather of that asshole's trench coat but then he moved to the side, leaned over and kissed Elly's cheek. She blushed and spoke his name - he could see her form the words clearly from this distance.

Huh.

So the little punk had jumped on the chance like he'd known he would. Predictable. Let him have her if she wants it that way. Let him deal with her.

Bastian seemed to feel the weight of the stare upon his back for he turned around, eyes wide. Embarrassed at being caught? The little fool had better get used to it unless he wanted to try and hide what he was doing from him and the press. Good luck at that: the media had already jumped on the fact that the two had shown up together for that event last week. The ass had showboated outrageously for some sick reason. He didn't seem so confident now, however, standing in a defensive stance with his arms crossed as the other man approached. Scared that the bigger man would beat the crap out of him, more than likely.

"Are we getting set up?" Surlaw clacked briskly over, smiling in a disarming manner. The thought of the smaller man afraid of him soothed him inside so much he found he could even act pleasant. Bastian eyed him apprehensively.

"Yeah, they're almost done. They'll be open soon and we have to like, go almost immediately on when the club fills." Elly was talking in a low voice to one of the lighting guys, pointing at the little duct-taped "x" where she was to stand when she sang. She wore her old outfit, a black tank top with a purple scarf tied around her neck, tons of jelly bracelets as a throwback to her generation in the same colors and tight black pants with furry boots. Surlaw shrugged and flicked the collar of his paisley coat up.

Badass.

The music was always the same. She had been adamant about that; gathering them together after their breakup to tell them no matter what happened they were a band that worked well together. At least that hadn't changed.

He's so beautiful, and she thinks again as she touches herself that she's never seen such a man before that looks a little like a woman so handsome. Slender but strong, pale but scarred and stained by ink across his chest, stitches broken, bruises on his back that has carried her, wounded by attacks physical and verbal, typed and penned in art and articles.

She takes a deep breath as if her runaway thoughts tire her.

Perhaps they do.

Without so much as a longer pause than the necessary oxygen her body needs her mind plunges on, deep into subconscious waters she didn't know existed. Dangerous, the waters of the abyss where strange creatures dwelled. Deep, dark, velvety fingers with harem-tipped lights pull her helplessly into a lustful reverie.

What kind of a lover was he? Was he a giver or a taker? Unnecessary wondering, he catered to her every wish and whim and she was sure that would follow right into the bedroom. But his tendency to wear collars and straps caused a shiver of uncontrollable naughtiness to wrack her spine. In her masturbatory pleasure she doesn't feel guilty to think of him this way; his pale skin bound by slick leather cords, writhing before her and begging. Proof positive that she was in control, something she desperately needs now. In time she might let the thoughts become one with reality but for now it was enough to shudder through a lonely orgasm.

Or so she thought.

Once her mind had opened itself to new ideas and desires she couldn't get rid of them. Elly was pensive the next day as she had her face made up in Chastity's room of wonders. The blond woman was always sensitive to each band member's moods and she was silent as well, quickly powdering her friend's face and dotting the white under her eyes.

"There you go," she smiled as she finished up.

"Thanks, Chas." She placed a hand on her shoulder but halted as Bastian peeked his head in.

"Uh." He swallowed nervously. Elly clearly heard the "bop" sound his throat made and frowned.

"What's wrong, Bast?"

"We gotta talk." He scratched his chin fuzz and blushed. "I just had a call from the PR guy and, well. You hafta hear it." He motioned her towards him and she followed curiously. Once they were in the common room he took her hand and led her to the big chair the others had come to think of as Bastian's "throne" - and it was large, leather, and very deep. She sank into it and he sat down on a table in front of her, elbows on his knees.

"So? What's Marty want now?"

"Well, the press picked up on you two not being together anymore. You knew that." He winced when he saw the momentarily flicker of pain cross her face. He'd even avoided using the word 'breakup' and she still looked hurt.

"Yeah, the tabloids are having a field d-" Elly's mouth dropped wide open as he picked up a paper from the table beside him and held it out for her. There was a bleary picture of them on the front that she couldn't quite make out but she could see his arm around her, his face pressed against her neck. One of very few stolen kisses in public but somehow, someone had gotten a shot of it.

The paper was not a tabloid.

"Heh." Bastian grinned sheepishly, his hand stealing to the back of his neck. "So, that big rock fan magazine - what's it's name -- they asked us to do an interview."

"Zero?"

"No," he said gently, "Us."

"Ohhhh." Her hand stole to her mouth in maidenly alarm. "Oh, wow." No one had ever asked Elly and Surlaw to do that. They must sense scandal, she knew no other reason.

"I tried to put him off but he said it would be the better thing to do. For the band's image. 'Come clean right away', and I said we didn't even know what we are yet."

"Oh, god," she murmured, placing the shaky hand before her eyes.

"Do you want to let it go? We can still say no about it. He told them yeah, but... you know. We can wiggle out somehow."

"No, we need to go. He knows what the hell he's doing, it's what he gets paid for."

"Then we really have to come up with what we're going to say." He flushed. "I couldn't say you're my girlfriend, he tried to coach me, but..."

"Crap."

"Yeah." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his baggy, zippered cargo pants and sulked a little. "What do we do? They might want pics again too."

"Well, we have to tell the truth."

"Baby, what is the truth?" Bastian looked miserable again. He kicked at the floor with one thick-soled boot, the rubber squeaking on the hard wood. "I know how I feel, but I can't speak for you." He was so caught up with worry that he didn't notice how she stared at him, her lips slightly parted and her expression somewhat dazed. He hadn't realized what he said. Was it cheesy? Yes. But the affectionate term struck her hard in her mind and heart.

"I have my own voice," Elly found herself saying as if from a distance. She shifted around in the chair, tucking her side locks behind her ears. "I can handle them."

"Can you handle me?" He held his hands out and looked at the neatly-manicured nails as he spoke. "I'll tell them everything I feel if that's what you want." He turned his hands over, palms up in an odd tossing gesture and slowly looked up. "Within reason. But all truth."

"You're scaring me a little, Bast," she admitted. His icy eyes widened in alarm.

"No," he rushed out. "I don't ever want to do anything like that." She sighed.

"I don't think you can stop it. And I'm not even sure if you're the one that's making me feel this way or I am, myself." She shrugged. "Or both. Ah, when is this thing anyway?"

"Tomorrow," he groaned. "He said to do it quick, especially if we kept on seeing each other. Cut down the likelihood of some other ass getting another picture."

"Fodder for the herd."

"Yeah, fanning the flames and all that."

"All right. So we'll just let them see us as we are - uncertain -- but..." She faltered to a stop.

"...happy? I hope you're a little happy with me, anyway." He stood up, towering over her as she was still seated in his chair. "It's just to let the media know we're not having an affair after all." He placed both hands on the armrests on either side of her. She noticed in passing that he was wearing two silver bands on his fingers on either hand today. One was set with a light blue stone, the other a lavender one that sparkled prettily in the fluorescent lighting. Huh. Bastian flicked his bangs back and nuzzled her lips with his own in a strange not-kiss she found intriguing. He smiled and stretched as he stepped back.

"Right," she murmured. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

Bastian affected a dead serious expression as he lifted her in his arms, pulling her to his face and looking squarely at the video camera facing them. It was what Elly had dubbed his "Depp" stare; that calm, sexy look that made teenage girls' knees (and not a few older women's as well) turn to water. Of course the joke was that she had never found the actor as handsome or appealing in general as Bastian. Since her back was to the camera this time she contented herself with lacing her fingers lightly around the back of his neck. The pale young man seemed to have a weakness there and she felt his stomach tighten against her when she did it.


	9. Chapter Nine

The video shots were all done ahead of time of course.

The commercials the program ended up using were more provocative of course; the couple was inches apart in one, mouths parted as if for a kiss but staring sideways at the camera, painfully aware of the attention paid to them. Each time they cut or came back to the show they used one of the slow shots. The session had been very intense and they stuck it all out, rolling right into the live show afterward. There was a grand announcement and the audience went crazy clapping and cheering them on as they walked out onstage. Bastian had almost unthinkingly taken her hand before then and they walked out together as if they were strolling through the park.

A heavily lighted, loud, closed-in park with four or five cameras on them at all times that is. Elly squeezed his hand nervously and he calmed her with a low sound in his throat. She didn't know why or how; it just settled her nerves. Bastian saw this and felt more confident as they sat on the couch the show host offered them. The beginning was all generic crap and they sailed through it easily. Their latest hit, how Bast was holding up since the attack (he didn't even have many bruises anymore. He got up and bared his back to the audience at which many fans shrieked with lovesick glee).

And of course then they got down to the real business.

"All right... do you mind if I ask a few personal questions?"

"Isn't that why we're really here?" Bastian laughed softly when the reporter beamed at him. He stretched his long legs out before him on the conveniently-placed table in front of them and curled an arm around Elly.

"Agreed." She chuckled, her cheeks stained a little pink from his increasingly suave demeanor. She leaned involuntarily towards him and his smile grew broader.

"Are you an official couple now? We've all heard and are sorry about the breakup," here he nodded at Elly, whose face clouded for a moment. "But it startled people to see you two together so fast."

"We don't know, really," Elly half-apologized. "I'm still really upset about Surlaw choosing to be with someone else. But I sort of realized he's always been here."

"I try." Bastian shrugged. "I wasn't hanging like a vulture over the two like I've read in some papers -" He leaned towards a nearby camera and shook a finger. "You know who you are!" The audience chuckled. "I just want her to be happy. If I can manage that it makes me happy."

"I don't think I'm 'on the rebound'," Elly said dryly, tucking her long side locks back. "I'm human, though, you know. I needed someone and he was there for me." She crossed her legs, the purple leather boots she wore shining brightly in the studio light.

"There's something the fans might not stop to think about," the man said seriously. He made some comments about celebrities not being allowed by the public to be "normal" humans with all the faults and mistakes said people make. The couple answered and agreed with him along the way. Their immediate and honest responses caught his attention and he commended them for coming to the press as soon as possible.

"I really would like to thank you two for coming so quickly," he said, smiling with real feeling. He liked these two. They felt like honest people to him. The reporter knew most wouldn't have thought it worth their time or had been furious at anyone digging into their personal life. Bastian at this point said something that became the subject of other shows, magazines, papers and high schools around the nation for a good week.

"Any chance I get to spend time with the woman I love is good time," he told them quietly. Elly's face flushed so dark that everyone knew on instinct he'd never said that to her before. The camera closest to her panned in as she tried to catch her breath and recover from her shock on national television. She finally ended up laughing and catching him in a huge hug as the audience cheered. The man beside them just watched for a minute, mouth open, and then he started to grin and clap his hands.

Zero's fans were mostly appeased by the interview. Bastian was, too. He brought her back to her apartment that night and she hesitated only slightly before inviting him in.

Moments later they fell on the couch, glued at mouth and hip. Her hands gripped his back tightly as they kissed, kneading the muscles in his surging back. He stayed above her neck for some time, cautious about rushing things. Bastian was only a man as she was a woman, though, and when she softly moaned his name he shuddered and dared to drop a hand to the swell of her breast. His hand trembled and he briefly cupped the soft mound of flesh before she began shaking her head violently. Her hands slid from his back to his chest, pushing violently. Bastian froze and lurched upright on his knees, holding his hands before him in supplication.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I couldn't help myself." He paused, looked at her slyly from under long eyelashes. "You're so beautiful I lose my mind sometimes."

"I want to," she gasped, "but I still can't. I just can't."

"Shh, s'alright," he tried to will his body to calm down. "It's all right." His lower body was leaden and heavy and he knew he'd have to suffer later but he held back as hard as he could until he started to feel in control again.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He quirked a smile at her. "I need to get back and feed my plants anyway."

"Feed?"

"Didn't I mention?" He got up carefully, unfolding one leg out and stepping from the couch. "I keep carnivorous plants. Ones that eat bugs and stuff."

"That's neat," she murmured in a faint voice. The limber way he had dismounted the couch (and herself, don't forget that) had caused her heart to start racing again. He was so fit! Elly led him back to the door and they shared a somewhat chaste kiss good night before parting.

Bastian hurried off to his car as fast as he could. The cool night air was doing nothing to still the needs of his burning lower belly. He had a feeling he would go home like this many, many more times in the next few months. He yanked his door open and sat gingerly in the driver's seat. It was only then that he groaned.

"Man, this is gonna kill me."

He was smiling, though.

Elly knew she was having a bad day from the moment she got up. The alarm buzzed off and she crawled sluggishly out of bed, her forehead tightening in a sickeningly familiar way. She dragged herself to the bathroom and dug around in the cabinets for some Advil or something. In doing so she bumped against a small bottle of shaving cream and a man's razor.

Her face paled, then flushed. Her eyes slowly widened in an effort to hold the tears back but this time everything hit her with an extra side of estrogen. She flung herself on the floor and cried. She wanted him. She missed him. She was horribly guilty about the other night when she'd kissed Bastian - as if she'd cheated on her ex when she knew damn well they were through.

She missed his bushy sideburns, the smell of his common musk cologne and his wild outfits. Sure, she still saw him, but she wasn't with him the way she was accustomed and it hurt. The sobbing woman wilted completely to the floor, her cheek touching the plush area rug, her hands grasping at it wildly. She responded to Bastian and his love but she still wanted Surlaw. She didn't understand why he had thrown her aside so quickly. She must have been unfit, disgusting in his eyes after all those blond models he'd seen. For once she started to question her appearance, tugging hatefully on the purple hair. It was too short, too punk, too stupid. She lurched upright and slammed the door closed forcefully, causing the mirror on the other side to rattle alarmingly. Elly ripped the t-shirt she wore off and stared at her naked reflection, her eyes like hard little agates.

Unacceptable.

She wasn't skinny, she didn't have a huge chest. Was she so unattractive that after seeing he could have whatever he wanted that he had just left her? He'd gone out with someone new first although she blamed herself for thinking of Bastian in a romantic way long before then. It had just been so touching how he had rescued her without heed to any personal injury. And he could have died. Her crying fits after the incident had been over the thought of that; she hadn't been able to imagine being without him. She opened the door and walked back to bed in a semi-daze, eyes filmy with tears. Once she got there she flung herself upon the sheets and wept like the little child she felt like inside.

She wanted her Wolfy.

Back at the studio the band had all gathered in the practice room but Elly still hadn't shown up.

"She's super late." Julian pointed with a drumstick at the huge clock on the wall. "She's never late."

"What the hell is she thinking?" Surlaw was pacing angrily along the wall away from the instruments and stands. "Faffing around more than likely. We have to get this new song down pat before the next gig. Bloody irresponsible thing to do! " Bastian raised a thin eyebrow at their drummer, who also looked surprised. Surlaw's British only came out so thick when he was extremely upset. He otherwise tried to repress it and put on a more American standard for everyone. He tugged on his garishly colored flower-print shirt.

"I'll call her." Bastian set his bass guitar down and stood up, ignoring the snort from Surlaw. He reached down, unzipped a pocket on his cargo pants and reached inside for his cell. He held the phone up to his ear but frowned moments later. "She's not answering."

"'Course she's not. Probably not even there."

"Maybe she's on her way." Julian didn't look too hopeful. "... well, someone needs to go see if she's okay."

"Forget it," Surlaw snapped when Bastian got up. "Let's just start. She'll show up."

"How can you be such a bastard?" The pale man spun and stormed out the door.

"Yeah man, that was kinda cold." Julian blinked.

"If she's got problems she needs to suck it up." He growled under his breath and adjusted his thick shades. "I do."

Bastian didn't drive as carefully as he usually did. He spun his Element sharply around corners, checking the dash for signs of cops. He didn't want to get held up with a ticket. He parked, walked quickly up to the front of the building and showed his ID to the man at the desk.

"Has she left the building?"

"I haven't seen her, no. I was here since this morning." The man shrugged. The security was great in this complex. Several very upscale tenants lived on the top floor where she did and they kept close watch to make sure no strangers disturbed them. Bastian was soon bounding down the hallway to her apartment and he skid to a stop in front of the door, heart racing. He'd tried to call several more times along the way and she was ignoring her cell as well as the land line.

"Elly?" He tapped politely at first, but harder when she didn't answer. He felt gutted; she hadn't trusted him with a key yet and he didn't know what to do. If she was hurt inside there he could try and break down the door but he didn't know. Plus it would bring all the security guards straight to this area.

"Go away, Bast." Oh thank God. He placed his forehead on the door.

"We were worried." No need to mention her ex being an unfeeling asshole. "Are you all right?" He stepped back when he heard the lock scraping open.

"I can't go in today." She sounded very strange, hiccuppy and weak.

"Are you sick? Do you need anything?" She flung the door open and walked away before he could see her. Bastian stepped inside and carefully latched the door behind him.

"I shouldn't have let you in."

"Oh, shit." He heard her now and her voice was scratchy as if she'd been crying for a very long time. As he walked towards the bedroom doorway towards her he saw tissues randomly scattered on the floor. Some even had blood on them, evidence that she'd had some pretty serious nosebleeds as well. Elly backed away from him, shaking her head in agitation.

"You don't need to see me like this."

"Correction," he whispered softly. He reached out and firmly took her by the arm, tugging gently to pull her into the light. "This is exactly when I need to see you." His breath hissed out between clenched teeth.

"I'm disgusting," she sniffled. Her face was red, eyes puffy and teary. There were tiny blood flecks on her upper lip that she kept wiping ineffectually at. They must have dried already, he thought in a daze.

"No one looks perfect when they cry," he said firmly. "Was it... are you sad over him again?" The brave front he tried to put up tottered a little when she flung herself against him, sobbing his name. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she whimpered. "And I can't let go and I think I'm ugly and you'll probably get sick of my childishness and leave me, too."

"What?"

"He did." She slumped in his arms. He gave a strangled cry and bent, struggling to get his weight under her and lift her into his arms.

"You've gotta get cleaned up," he murmured, looking around. He hadn't been in her place that often and he'd never been in her bedroom where the bathroom was. He was blushing a little bit as he carried her in and laid her gently on the bed. "It'll make you feel better."

"It's true," she said simply. Bastian shook his head ruefully as he walked into the bathroom.

"I don't think so," he called out as he picked up a washcloth and ran it under some cool water. "Not all guys know how to tell others they love them." He came back and shooed her hands away when she reached for it, kneeling before her on the bed. Elly sighed and let him dab her face, closing her eyes as the soft cloth soothed her swollen eyes. Bastian reached around with his other arm, stroking her back.

"You do."

"Heh. I know half of what I say sounds like cheap pickup lines."

"No, this." She indicated them sitting on the bed. His blue eyes widened in comprehension.

"Ahhhh... I get it now." He set the washcloth down on his knee and placed his cheek on hers for a second. She was shocked at his tone of voice and opened her eyes, her lips parted in amazement. Bastian's lip was thrust out in a generous pout. His forelock swung down and he absently flicked his head, shaking it back. He reached out and took her head in his hands.

"Do you?" Close; he felt he was close now. She needed to trust him, to give him that special part she was holding out on. She'd given it to someone else and they had crushed it without realizing how special it was. He felt fiercely protective at the moment.

"You're scared, baby," he soothed, fingers caressing her cheeks. "And I'm sorry. But I won't ever hurt you like he did." Her shoulders slumped as something that stood between them finally came out in the open. He removed his hands from her cheeks and clasped them around her upper back, pulling her towards him with a hoarse sigh.

"I can't help it. Oh please, don't leave. Don't leave me!" Bastian bit his lip so hard he drew blood. This was it why she wouldn't - couldn't -- love him yet. Her hands grasped at his back and he was glad the knife wound was healed now because her nails dug into the soft flesh, dragged down into the rough scar and caught. He hissed, more with surprise than pain.

"I'm not going anywhere," he soothed, hushing softly in her ear. "Can't you feel it? I'm a part of you. I can't leave, ever. And I'm just as scared as you are about it."

"Wh- what?"

"This is going to sound so shitty," he coughed, embarrassed. "But I've never felt this way about someone before. You scare me all the time. Today when I thought you were hurt, every time you look at him..." He trailed off. They stared at each other for a long moment. Then he saw her lavender eyes clear at last. She smiled wanly and looked down at herself, seeing her bare legs and blushing when she remembered she only had on what passed for Elly pajamas. Bastian looked off to the side, politely ignoring her embarrassment. He'd noticed, all right, and it was sexy as hell even in the state she was in but he wasn't going to try anything when she was so vulnerable.

"Oops," she murmured, tugging on the bottom of the long t-shirt to try and cover more leg. "Can you stay while I shower? I really don't want you to leave me today. If that's all right."

"Yeah, sure." He scratched his nose, frowning as he stood up and handed her the damp washcloth. "Oh, crap! I better call them at the studio and let them know we'll be there."

"Tell them I'll buy dinner tonight," she sighed. "My way of apologizing for making everyone stay late like we're probably going to have to."

Listening to the shower running from the living area, Bastian wondered vaguely if she would want him to stay the night, too. He shrugged. She had a comfortable couch. He'd broken discovered one barrier today, not for a moment did he think he would be able to break it down quickly.

It depends on how good she is at building them, he thought grimly. He rolled his shoulders back. Bring it on.

"Why do you read this thing, Bast?" He looked over at Elly as she picked up his mail and started leafing through the rag magazine he had subscribed to. They were in his condo spending a quiet night together after going to the movies. It had been fun and he was mixing a drink for her as a sort of dessert. The band members had been spending even more time together on their own lately. Especially as the guitarist and co-founder, Surlaw, often mentioned he "was too busy". Julian had been quiet and they assumed something had happened but he was so intensely private that no one could figure out what was wrong. That left Bastian and Elly lots of time like this, quiet moments together at his or her place. Neither one complained. "This stuff is trash." She leafed through a few more pages.

"I like to see what they come up with," he laughed. "You should have seen them after the interview we did on TV. It was hilarious." He paused. "What's the new thing this time?"

"They're going on and on about this actor is apparently 'the sex'," Elly said. She rattled the pages and shrugged. "I don't know why." Bastian glanced at the paper and shrugged.

"He's not my type," he dismissed the man after a single glance. Elly turned around to watch him fill her margarita glass with slush.

"How many men did you actually date?"

"Date?" He blinked. "Like, relationship-wise?" She nodded and he saw nothing but open, honest curiosity in her face that allowed him to tell her something he might otherwise have kept to himself for now.

"I didn't have many boyfriends," he confessed, walking over and handing her the drink. "Two, maybe. And all my 'relationships' lasted at best around three months."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He placed a hand lightly on the couch and leaped over it to sit beside her. "Guys were one-night stands. It's easy to use them that way and faster than trying to talk up a girl."

"Oh."

"Oh," he mimicked, wincing at her tone. "'Oh' is not good. Listen. I stopped that when I saw you." He coughed lightly and rushed on, "I even had a a bunch of tests done just in case before we started getting serious. Trust me, I was well-rewarded for being an ass." He slunk down on the couch at the memory of the long cotton swab. He couldn't even look at one for days afterward.

"Sorry," she half-apologized, taking a sip of her drink. "I guess it's a good thing that I feel a little jealous though, right?"

"You do?" He felt his heart beat faster. If she did that might mean she had started to think more strongly of him. She wrinkled her nose.

"What if I told you I'd slept around a lot? How would you feel?"

"Ah. Point taken." He made a gun-to-head gesture that caused her to giggle. "I did give all that up for you, though. I've never been abstinent for more than a few weeks since I turned sixteen or so."

"Precocious little bastard, weren't you? How can you stand it now?" Although her tone was teasing she was half-serious, feeling him out. He sensed it but didn't want to make her think he was feeding her "the right" answers.

"Eh." Bastian shrugged. "I was stupid." He reached out and caressed the side of her face with a long-fingered hand. "I don't mind waiting for you. You're different."

"You're different, too," she murmured quietly. "You don't push yourself on me like a lot of guys I've known."

"I'm trying not to!" He laughed, edging closer so that their foreheads almost touched. "Trust me, the desire is there. You know that when we make out." His voice dropped to a low tone, the hint of a smile playing about his lips and his pale blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Well." Elly drank off the rest of her margarita and set the glass down on a coaster. "You know I'm having problems thinking I'm pretty now." Bastian leaned slightly forward. They were really talking, now. Maybe she'd turn over a few of the rocks that had gotten tossed so recklessly among her mental garden. Then he'd be able to crush the wriggling self-doubts that had grown in her mind.

"And you know I think that's silly," he whispered. His fingers stroked her cheek, wandered to her ear and began lightly tickling her neck just below. Elly shivered.

"Oh, come on. No fair." Her head turned instinctively to that side and he moved slightly and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Whoever said I play fair?" Bastian dipped his tongue inside her mouth and then spoke again without kissing her. "You taste sweet."

"Mmmnn, quit it." But she wrapped her arms around him as he knelt close, arching along the couch like some big black cat. "Hey - that brings something up I'd been meaning to ask you. Why do you hardly ever drink?"

"I don't like how I get when I drink."

"Angry?"

"Horny," he mumbled. Elly started to giggle. He dropped his shoulders and glared at her. "I'm serious!"

"I know, it was just... so funny the way you said it!" She started to laugh louder and he smiled, too.

"It would have driven me crazy if I was like that and didn't have an outlet, so I didn't."

"Well? What about now?"

"Now?" He blinked at her in confusion. "I'm not drinking because I didn't want to startle you with my amours." He drew close and kissed her again, softly on the mouth.

"God. I love listening to you talk," she marveled. "'Amours'? I think you're the only person I've ever heard use that word."

"It sounds nicer than 'jump you like an animal in heat'," he snickered. "Speaking of drinks, did you want another one?" He pointed at her empty glass.

"Only if you share it with me." Bastian froze in the middle of reaching for the glass. He turned his head, the black-rimmed makeup around his eyes making them appear even wider. Elly considered him silently. The makeup was different, something he'd done himself since the entire studio had the day off. He also wore a ripped black tank top and worn jeans. They were alone at his condo and had planned to spend the entire day there so he was barefoot as well. She personally liked this casual side of him. She didn't see it often and that was what made her suggest he let his guard down a little more.

And of course he couldn't refuse her anything.

Several drinks later she was sitting on the couch and he was kneeling in front of her on the floor where he had insisted he liked the view better. Elly made an offhand comment that his drink must be stronger than hers because she'd never seen someone get so intoxicated so fast.

"They're the same," Bastian said. "I don't drink so it hits me harder than you."

"You make good ones for not drinking often," she murmured. "This is perfect."

"Hmm? Is it? Let me check." Her eyes widened as he crawled up to her on his knees, reaching up to swiftly grasp the back of her head with one hand. "Drink," he husked urgently. She took a sip and he lunged forward, up to her mouth. The fingers of his other hand lightly tapped her lips, urging them open for his tongue which soon followed. The tiny mouthful she had taken slipped into his own and he swallowed quickly, his tongue running across his lips.

"H- holy crap."

"Hah," he panted. A bead of moisture remained on his chin and he ignored it as it slipped down the scruff to his neck. Elly gulped. "Yours tastes better." He wriggled further up on the couch, placing a knee on either side of her legs to straddle her lap. Her face flashed from a slightly-tipsy pink color to red almost instantly.

"What're you doing, Bast?"

"I wonder," he whispered, "if everything you have tastes better."

"Oh, my god. You weren't kidding about what drinking did to you." She gasped when he rested his hands lightly on her legs. "Bast, wait..."

"Wait for what?" He ducked his head, lapping with a long warm tongue at her ear. "Why?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. Elly bowed her head and as she moved their foreheads bumped. She jerked back a little, just enough so when Bastian raised his face their noses touched.

It was wonderful not being nervous anymore; he didn't worry or even think. He tilted sideways, gently covering her mouth with his. Their hands touched and he gently grasped her palm in his, raising it to his shoulder. Her hand curled around his neck to hold him close and he raised himself towards her, pushing her back on the couch until he was slowly arching over her. Their lips still pressed tightly together in an endless kiss, harsh panting the only sound in the spacious room. Everything he did was orchestrated by her slightest touch; a gentle caress on the back of his head another kiss, a movement of her leg allowing a soft bump of his abdomen on hers. He was the one that broke the long silence, his chest burning as the alcohol he'd drunk loosened his tongue. He started out with the obvious but it had just an electric effect as anything he could have said at the moment.

"I love you." His voice, low and deep and rich. It didn't purr, it didn't husk, it didn't whisper. It didn't sound like anything she had ever known. His soft singing cries were more real than anything that was happening, somehow, more there. Bastian's smooth hands were on her waist and she inhaled sharply when he dared to caress her form, the simple touch somehow more intimate than she had expected. His lips moved to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her throat. Tasting her, lapping at her skin hungrily in a slow passion that was undeniably erotic. She clung to him, breathing hard and trying to think amidst the haze of passion. She snapped back into reality, however, when his hand grazed her lower belly.

"Wait."

"Do you trust me?"

"Wh- what?"

"I promise not to go all the way. Do you trust me enough for that?"

"I - I want you, but..."

"Then relax." He kissed her, his hand unzipping her jeans and tugging them down to fall around her ankles. Her panties came next and he sighed as she raised herself off the couch to allow him to slide them off. Elly raised her hand to her mouth and bit the side of it, nervous but loving him, wanting something but not everything just yet. Bastian kept murmuring to her all the while, soothing her with his gorgeous voice. In the end she was swept up by the utter sweetness of it, moaning throatily when his gently probing finger rubbed the upper lips of her sex.

"Bastian..."

"Higher? Lower?" He rolled the finger pad delicately against the warm, wet folds, searching for that tiny part of her that could make her orgasm.

"Higher," she gasped. "Wait, there, like that. Just like that." Not as drunk as she thought he was, Bastian smiled and pleasured the woman he loved, drinking in her cries and moans as he slowly brought her to climax. He knew how the night would end. She would leave him eventually, afraid to show enough commitment to stay here with him even if they didn't sleep together. He would sigh and go take care of himself, dreaming of the day she would finally let him love her. And that was all right. She was happy now, he saw it in her face as she spoke to him, when they were out on their date, little things. She might not know it but she was coming around, slowly healing.

He could wait.

Julian was in ecstasies about the masquerade that a local artist was having at his house. Many different musicians and bands in the area had been sent an invite and Mister Zero had been no exception. Chastity was perhaps even more thrilled because she had been trying to get into the makeup effects business and never managed to get her little toe in the door yet. The members all conferred with her about outfits and makeup and she buzzed around the studio all day in blissful content. She was sure if she did a good enough job someone would ask about her work at the party.

"We really have to dress up?" Elly looked nervous. "I'm not sure about this."

"I thought a masquerade was just flimsy little sequined masks with suits and formal wear," Surlaw grunted. "But no, the invite says full costume. All the way." He shrugged.

"What are you going to be?" She ducked her head slightly when his calm green eyes met hers. She still felt a twinge when he looked at her like that and wondered when it would stop hurting. Unbidden, the thought of him in a werewolf outfit popped into her mind and she had to bite her lower lip to stay in control. "Wolfy" was her name for him. She didn't want to think of it being spoken by any other woman. But he shook his head as if he guessed her thoughts.

"Band director," he grinned.

"You could be anything and you picked that?!" He laughed at her expression.

"What the hell are you gonna be then?" He paused as Bastian walked into the room and backed up a pace or two. Elly noticed this and blinked, tucking her pesky side locks behind her ears in thought. He'd deliberately given the other man space. She looked as if she was about to say something but Bastian was talking and she forgot the strange moment as he held out the sketches Chas had done for them.

"Look! It's great!"

"Ohhhhh, my god Bastian," she dropped the paper and doubled over with laughter, shrieking wildly and unable to stop. Surlaw raised a bushy eyebrow and glanced at Bastian who was grinning from ear to ear. Julian poked his head in the door at the commotion.

"What's going on in here?"

"Elly thinks our matching costume is awesome," Bastian snickered. "That's what."

"Hey, lemme see that!"

"No way! You'll have to wait until the party."

"Oh shit," Elly had her hand pressed to her stomach. "No more, it hurts to laugh."

Bastian and Elly guarded the information carefully until the night of the party. They were to ride together to the event and even that couldn't dampen her good mood. Her boyfriend was at his hilarious best, chasing her around his home like an idiot until it was time to leave.

"Quit!"

"I'm practicing!" Bastian howled with laughter as she ran out the door.

Julian and Surlaw arrived at almost the same time and were sitting together by the bar when they walked in. The Joker's makeup was completely washed off and he wore a button down shirt, tie and slacks with round-rimmed glasses. It was the perfect costume for the man that always wore outrageous outfits that most of the people there didn't know who he was. Chastity had even managed to temporarily dye his hair back to its natural strawberry color and he wore it tied back in a business-man ponytail.

Surlaw reminded him of "that guy from The Music Man" and this had cracked them both up until the couple arrived. A wave of friendly laughter greeted them as Elly scurried in the door looking for all the world like the frantic character she was dressed in. A black, furry body suit molded to her well-rounded body and she wore cat's ears and a big, fluffy black tail that had a thick white stripe down the back. The white was splattered very slightly so as to look "painted on". She found the other members almost immediately and tore through the crowd laughing but running to get away from Bastian, who was following in a much more leisurely fashion.

He was hopping, to put it more precisely.

The pale man held a rose in one hand and his Pepe Le Pew outfit went absolutely perfect with the "skunk stripe" in his hair.

"Aw fuuuccckkk," Julian snorted, trying to keep the drink he'd just swallowed from going down the wrong way.

"Bloody frigging insane," Surlaw said almost mechanically. He was staring at Elly in that tight, furry suit, his mind obviously somewhere else. Bastian didn't notice because he was trying to sneak up on her and she kept eluding him.

"Come to me, my little melon-baby collie!"

"Yeek!"

"Hey, bartender. Can you keep these coming? I'm in the mood to get pissed right about now." The guitarist scratched his furry sideburns and turned around slowly on the stool he was sitting on so he didn't have to watch.

"Get pissed?" Julian frowned. Then he realized Surlaw meant "drunk" and his smile broadened. "Now you're talking!"

"Yeah." Halfway through the night Julian was in awe of his band mate's drinking capabilities. He knew how to knock 'em back himself, but hell - the big man wasn't stopping! He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I gotta go take a leak."

"Right." Surlaw's normally deep voice was slurred faintly. "I'll miss you terribly." Julian smoothed his hair back, fiddling with a curl that had somehow gotten out of the holder in the back. Then he saw Elly leaning against a wall chatting with some girl in a bunny outfit. He strode quickly over and gestured to her.

"He's drunk." She said it flatly, the smile draining off her face. Julian winced.

"Yeah. S'not a problem but he won't give me his keys. I already got a ride home. He doesn't."

"I'll do it." She straightened up with a steady look of determination.

"Thanks. I gotta go. I'll stay off just long enough and then come back so he doesn't suspect."

"I doubt he'd suspect shit in the state he's in," Elly mused, staring at the slumped-over man at the bar. She picked her way through the crowd and sat down in Julian's empty seat. The bartender looked over but she shook her head.

"'Allo."

"Give me your keys, Wolfy," she said softly.

"Is that what this is about?" He dug around in his pocket and tossed them disdainfully on the bar's marble top. "There." Elly sighed and picked them up.

"We'll give you a ride home," she told him quietly.

"Don't need one."

"You're going to walk?" He imagined he heard scorn in her voice and raised his head, his eyes bleary.

"I'm not taking charity rides from your ... boyfriend."

It was the first time he had ever said it out loud and it lay between them, solid and unforgiving.

"All right." Elly hated herself for it but she felt like crying again. She did not, however. This time something like anger replaced her tears and she nodded. "I'll drop the keys off tomorrow morning. Julie will call you a ride."

"I don't need your help," he growled, catching her arm in a tight grip. She swallowed hard and tugged experimentally but he wasn't letting go. It was just shy of painful and she was relieved when the drummer came sauntering back. The crowd was beginning to slowly break up, the full room now sparse in areas as groups loitered about chatting more quietly. People were getting tired or going off to someplace else for the night.

"What's up."

"You need to call him a ride later. I have his keys."

"A'ight." Julian paused, saw her expression and the death lock he had on her arm. "Uh... is everything okay?"

"Fine," she said in a weak voice. "Oh crap. No. No, it's not. Let go." He didn't answer out loud but she had to bite her lip, eyes tearing as he squeezed. She didn't know if he understood what he was doing but Bastian was coming and he did not look pleased.

"I shouldn't have before." Julian was fairly certain that no one else had heard the brown-haired man's whisper. Elly was too busy trying to pull free and Bastian wasn't close enough yet. He groaned.

"Dude, don't cause a scene, please," he urged. "Let her go."

As if he'd make that mistake again. Surlaw's hazy mind could only think that he didn't - hadn't -- wanted to and be damned if he was going to now! His panic transferred itself to his fingers and he grasped her even more tightly, this time causing her to squeak faintly in pain. Unfortunately Bastian came up at that very moment and heard her. Julian had never seen his friend's face look so dangerous before. He couldn't even stop him before he'd slammed a fist into the guitarist's side. Surlaw's eyes squeezed closed but he made no movement, no sound to show he'd felt the blow.

"Let her go, Themai."

"To you? Right." He turned and smiled at the smaller man. "That's right, isn't it." He opened his hand and chuffed laughter as Elly reeled forward into Bastian's arms. She was holding her arm loose at her side, purple eyes pale with fright. They had been lucky; the whole scenario had taken place so quickly that no one had really noticed.

"Call him a ride," she reminded Julian through numb lips as Bastian picked her up. He nodded and she laid her head against her man's furry chest. "I can walk," she said softly.

"Not now. I want to get you in the car and have a look at that arm." His voice was low, deep in his throat. It vibrated with barely-controlled fury. He concentrated on moving as quickly towards the black Element parked along the front of the house as he could to avoid thinking.

"It's not that bad," she protested when he wanted to see her bend it. She did so but gingerly, wincing as she moved it.

"Nothing's broken then." He sighed.

"Of course not!"

Nothing visible, anyway.

"Man, you have to apologize," Julian barked at the older man. "You just about snapped her arm last night."

"No way." Surlaw's green eyes were bloodshot. He squinted into the sunlight, yawning.

"Gahhh, don't do that, Christ, your breath stinks."

"Bugger off," Surlaw said almost cheerfully and slammed the door in his face.

"Dammit!" He'd only been trying to help, to make the idiot realize that when she came by soon to drop his keys off he'd better be ready with a white flag of truce or else. Especially since he couldn't believe Bastian would let her go alone now. He shrugged and walked down the pavement to his bike. "Fine, let him suffer." Hopping on he pedaled down the street in the warm California sunlight. He laughed and waved as he passed Bastian's little black car heading towards the apartment complex he'd just rode out from. Well, he'd been right. He wasn't letting her go alone. Or maybe she just couldn't drive today. He growled and raced the bike faster along the sidewalk, hooting with laughter as he scared some pigeons out of his way. Whatever. They'd talk it out.

Elly hadn't waved at Julian because she hadn't seen the man. Her thoughts were gloomy as she bounced Surlaw's keys in her hand.

"I'll be right here," Bastian assured her as he pulled into a parking space. "If you're longer than ten minutes I'm coming up."

"You don't have to do that."

"Oh yes I do." He leaned over in the seat and kissed her full on the mouth. Elly smiled in spite of her nerves.

"I'll be fine." She took a deep breath and tugged on the tank top she was wearing with one hand. The walk to his apartment seemed longer than usual and she kept thinking about his face - he'd looked so upset -- and how he had hurt her the other night. When she finally reached the door she knocked almost timidly on it. The door swung open right away as if he'd been on the other side.

"Here." She handed him the keys and he took them from her silently, staring at the purple and green bruises encircling her bare arm. They were clearly defined and he could see the fingers of a hand - his hand.

"I tried but it hurt too much to wear a sleeved shirt," she told him matter-of-factly. "Chas will fix it. And Bastian thinks we should all sit down and talk things out." This last was rushed as if she was afraid she wouldn't say it unless she did it quickly.

"Talk. Yeah, I'd figure he would."

"I suggested it. He was more favoring the beat you senseless option."

"Him?" He snorted derisively.

"Yes. Him." She reached up and touched his arm. "Why are you doing this, Surlaw? You didn't want me, not the other way around. Are you angry at me now?"

"I didn't want to do that." He swore. "It was a mistake."

"The - the arm?" An awkward pause followed; hesitation just long enough so that she might think he meant something else later.

"Yeah. That."

"Aaalll right, geez. Clean yourself up and we'll head out to the studio. The rest of the guys wanna talk."

"Fabulous." But he shooed her off, assuring the worried singer he would arrive soon. Elly sighed and walked back to Bastian's car.

"He'll be there?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Then we can have this out."

They gathered in the big common room for the discussion. Julian was there already when Elly and Bastian showed up and soon after Surlaw shoved open the door. They said good morning a bit awkwardly and then settled down for some serious talk.

"Is everything okay?" Bastian sat down on his huge leather chair and pulled Elly into his lap. He wasn't letting her anywhere near the other man today, Julian noticed.

"I drank too much." Surlaw grimaced, crossing his legs on the table in the middle of the room. "You know what it does to me... sometimes."

"You've never done anything like that before," Elly said quietly.

"Is this an intervention?" He seemed amused as he pushed his round lenses up on his nose. They weren't sunglasses, yet they hid his bloodshot eyes from view making him appear completely recovered.

"We have to be able to function," she insisted.

"I know. It wasn't a gig or anything."

"But people could have seen it. You know how careful we have to be about shit like that." Bastian was absently stroking her injured arm, the light touches presumably meant to be soothing. Surlaw couldn't tell and since he wasn't wasted he didn't care.

"I know," he groaned. "I'm sorry, all right? You know how I get when I'm completely arseholed."

"Yeah."

"It worked out fine," Julian pressed. "He knows what might happen if he does it again. We don't want the bad press." He was always the mediator, stepping in to make sure everything was tied up and safe again.

"No shit," Surlaw rolled his eyes, one gloved hand lightly touching his forehead.

"I can't just let it lie like that, Julian." The drummer raised both eyebrows. He rarely heard his full name from his friend. Bastian set his chin on Elly's shoulder, staring directly at the bigger man across the way. "I'm serious. You won't admit it, but you've got a problem with us. She might not be all the way mine yet, but she will be. Don't ever let me catch you hurting her again. You know we're gonna keep doing fan service and you'd better deal with it somehow." Surlaw's eyes narrowed behind the lavender lenses. He took his hand off his face and pointed at him.

"I'm right here," Elly whispered, blushing and trying to look over her shoulder at her boyfriend.

"I don't care about that shit. And I would have grabbed at anyone that was there at the bloody time, not just her."

"I'm right here," she murmured, louder this time.

"I didn't mean it." Surlaw looked up into her eyes for the first time that day.

"As long as we're airing things out can I say something? Screw it, I'm going to anyway." She raised her chin, her hand automatically seeking out Bastian's for strength. "It seems you didn't mean a lot of things about me. No, shut up - I know. We should have just stayed friends. It was probably the sudden excitement and celebrity status that set us off."

"So. Still friends?" Bastian was probably the only one that heard the ripple of anxiety that ran through that sentence. Elly wasn't paying attention due to the emotions her little speech had raised in her and Julian was starting to get impatient.

"Yeah. What else? You're all my family; I don't have anyone else you know. And I'll stick by my family no matter what."

That had been a few days ago; the band had started to function normally again and she was relieved. There were so many stories about women breaking up a musical group. She felt it didn't have to be that way and was glad that it hadn't happened to them. As Elly rambled aimlessly about the near-deserted studio, she saw a light flickering in one of the rooms and wandered over to investigate.

"Oh, my," she whispered in awe.

The practice room was set up and her boyfriend was inside with a single camera recording his actions.

Bastian's jet black hair was feathered up on the sides and back instead of laying flat like it usually did. His trademark white shock of bangs were feathered down across his one eye so that they completely hid it from various angles. Chastity had given him dark, brooding sooty rings around his eyes that popped those icy blue eyes out even more than usual. His pale neck was covered in silver chains and black leather strips tied in the back and he wore quite a few silver and onyx set rings. His clothing was as much a work of art as his jewelry and makeup. Black, shiny leather and mesh plastered to his skin above yet cut off above his navel so that most of his body leading down to his belt was visible. His pants were loose on his hips and pushed down to the thigh bone, smooth skin hairless, flawless. He wore knee-high laced boots of the same color as his top and must have been at least three inches thick on the bottom.

She grabbed the sound board and plugged in a set of headphones to listen. Alongside a rhythmic beat that seemed somehow familiar his unmistakable voice filled the room with Japanese pop lyrics that were catchy and seemed somehow erotic. That's probably just your state of mind, stupid, she thought as she caught her breath. And yet his smooth, low tone was almost moaning at times, panting. She shivered when he thrust his hips forward with the beat. That was the pace, that was why she knew it. The music matched the pulsing ebb and flow of sex itself. Bastian paused in a break in the music and moaned something in such a way that all doubt left her mind. She was left with her mouth hanging open in shock. This was definitely a naughty song and he was deliberately singing it as much as he'd gone through the trouble to get dressed up and record himself. The question was why.

Bent over on his knees, his alluring voice sounding desperate now, needy, he was staring up at the camera and touching his chest, nipples, hands moving down to his thighs. Just before the wandering fingers reached his groin the music stopped and he shuddered forward. He must have had the camera on timer because everything snapped off at that point. Bastian rose slowly from the floor and she was too hypnotized by what she had seen to move.

"Ahh," he gasped when he could talk. He added something in Japanese that she couldn't understand but instinctively knew was a curse.

"Sorry. I take it that was a surprise?"

"Mnn, for you." He walked over and grasped her in his arms. He'd gotten just as anxious performing as she had watching.

"You know I can't speak Japanese ..."

"I've got a translation," he grinned with an evil glint in his eye.

"I have a pretty good idea anyway," she gasped as he pulled her even closer, lips seeking the tender skin of her neck. "Bastian, god, Julian's still here ..."

"S'what?" He spoke with his mouth full of her earlobe. "No one else is and it won't scar pretty Julie if he catches us making out."

"He'll deck you if he hears you call him 'pretty,'" she laughed breathlessly. He was hot from his exertions, leather not being the best material to record in a stuffy studio. Especially when you were contorting around like he'd been. His body against hers was causing her to lose what little control she had left and he was playing his cards ruthlessly.

"You haven't seen the half of what I can do performing alone, just for you." He nipped her shoulder and gently urged her backwards with his hands on the low of her back. "It's quiet in there. Soundproof. No one will hear." Elly shivered with anticipation.

"It's just so ..."

"Risky?" Bastian reached out behind her and closed the door. He then wriggled towards her, pressing her tightly against the wood and glass. "No one's here but the night guard and the Joker. But they might see us, yes." His voice dropped to a lusty whisper.

"Bastian!"

"Let them," he moaned, rubbing his firm length on her leg. "Ah, you make me so hot." Elly jerked in place, shocked. He was like a different person and this wild side of him excited her more than she liked to admit. Her hand was guided lightly, placed on his chest, rubbed down until he was nudging it at his low waistband. He didn't force her hand and released it instantly when she flexed her fingers, grazing his thigh bone.

"What you do to me," Elly whispered softly, shaking her head in disbelief. She raised her hand - Bastian moaned with regret -- and grasped his chin in her hands. She smiled at the feel of the chin scruff but when she spoke it was deadly serious. "No sex," she told him firmly. "Just play."

"I'm shocked," Bastian pouted. "Our first time will be much more special than inside the studio." She giggled at his petulance and threw her arms around his neck, gluing her lips to his and throwing him off balance in the process. He managed to stick a hand out and catch the chair he'd had placed in the middle of the room, though. He sat down heavily, the chair scooting several feet along the slick tiled floor.

"Mmm ..."

"I should have done this weeks ago," he panted roughly as her hands traced the mesh on his upper chest. His own were lightly squeezing her rear, both holding her in place and delighting in the feel.

"What makes you think it would have worked then?" Elly tugged at the lacing around his neck until he started moaning. "This leather and bondage stuff isn't just for show, is it. You really like it."

"Oh, tease!" He had tried to kiss her but she'd pulled him sharply back by the collar and attached strips. He had to close his eyes to try to relax but it was no use, she was all over him, her body above his, her hands wrapped tightly in the straps and using them to her advantage. "Yes, okay, I'm a submissive."

"Wow. I've never been with a guy that was like that." She glanced at him slyly.

"I'll still be aggressive sometimes," he assured her. "But do - ahhh, that ..." he trailed off as she pulled gently again. "Do that," he gulped, "and I can't help myself."

"Oh, Bastian," she purred faintly. "I've found a weapon of mass destruction, haven't I?"


	10. Chapter Ten

"If you mean for that weapon to go off too quickly, yes," he whimpered. "Your - your hand..." Elly was rubbing just below his navel. She'd never touched him below the belt or seen what he looked like yet. Turns out she didn't have to tonight either because he suddenly arched backwards, mouth open, chest heaving.

"Ohhhhh, was that what I think it was?"

"Hell," he gasped in reply. "Yeah. It was." He reached up and pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. "See what you do to me," he sighed. "You're everything I want." He was delighted to see the smile on her lips touch her deep purple eyes. They regarded him more fondly than he'd ever dreamed.

"The same thing you do to me? Yeah, I know."

"Speaking of which ..."

"Eek!"

"Hold still."

"Don't take them off, just -"

"Shhhh."

"Oh god yes."

Surlaw sat staring into space on the edge of his bed. He had to change his sheets. He had to strip the entire mattress bare and wash every single item right down to the pillowcases. He hadn't in a long time. He imagined the bed still smelled like her and he couldn't do it. Her faint scent lingered in the pillow she'd slept on, the sweet and sleepy smell of lavender mixed with vanilla. And so he sat in his boxers at the edge of his bed in the middle of the night, sleepless and irritated. Hunched over, eyes bleary and wanting to drink. Needing to drink. How had the whole thing gone wrong, the tables turned like this? Was that little bastard holding her, making her moan and pant his name like she'd once his as he loved her in this very bed? And most of all, why did he still care? He stood up, groaning, hand digging at his scalp below the ruffled brown hair. He did everything too roughly now, his anger always peaking, ready for a fight. To hurt things. Anything.

Even her.

His drunk mind had somehow translated "letting her go" as the first mistake he'd made that other night and he hadn't wanted to, he'd never wanted to. He'd been jealous, damn it - jealous of the little skunk-haired punk that had stolen his girl. All right, he'd say it again. Bastian Libache, fucking emo goth whatever-the-fuck he was that liked to have sex with men, of all things, had stolen his girl.

What does that make me? Less of a man?

Surlaw couldn't tell her he was sorry, even now, although he knew it was too god damned late and that was why he never would. The look in her sweet lavender eyes when he had told her he wasn't jealous had almost killed him inside. He hadn't seen what it would mean to her - that he had taken the other woman out because he'd wanted to. Not to get back at her like he really had. Now all he had were those other women and he couldn't even bring himself to invite them into his apartment. To do that would somehow be the final break in the relationship, the part where he started getting over her. He knew he should do it, he just couldn't. Not yet. The sheets would stay, he decided. He couldn't sleep without them and he needed his rest tonight. His large hands reached out and gripped the pillow she used to use, pulling it to his cheek. The bushy sideburns frizzed out and splayed among the cotton as he crushed it to him tightly.

Men didn't cry.

But if he woke up sometimes after they had broken up with his pillow damp where it rested against his cheek, so what?

"Turn the air conditioning up," he muttered to himself as he found another of those wet patches when he woke the next morning. "Too fucking hot in here." Yawning hugely, he got up and rambled into the bathroom where he ran the water really hot in the shower. The scalding water caused his skin to sting but he liked it all the better for that. He washed until he felt more than clean, standing in the shower until the water ran cool. Surlaw was sighing when he stepped out, running the towel over his single tuft of chest hair, down his torso, his roughly-haired legs. He was not-remembering how she had tickled him, delighted when she'd found out attacks on his thighs caused him to erupt into wheezing fits of laughter. He was also not-remembering her lotion, deodorant and some other feminine bullshit was in his cabinet. He bypassed it instead and reached over on top of the toilet where he had purchased a new can of shaving cream.

He shaved, changed into a garish flower-print top and striped corduroy pants with his trusty worn fedora and popped his round, large-lensed shades on.

Ready to go.

It didn't take long to drive to the studio since he wasn't one to obey speed limits anyway. He drove up, waved at the guard as he pulled in and parked in the second space. The first was taken by a very familiar bright green car. He grimaced and swung his own about, parking a small distance away so he wouldn't have to walk back in uncomfortable silence with her later. As he walked down the hallway to the practice room he caught that lavender-and-vanilla scent and froze as Elly stepped out from one of the rooms along the way.

"Hey." He smiled crookedly at her, the one that used to make her knees weak. He thought she faltered for a moment and then she simply smiled back, waving at him casually. She had on a tank top again with a loose scarf tied around her neck as well as one arm. He hated looking at it, knowing what was underneath.

"You're here early!"

"I wanted to practice before anyone else was around." He shrugged, indicated the guitar he held loosely by the neck.

"Me too."

"Oh, good. Hey, does Chas have her coffee made yet?" He paused, started walking down the hall again. "You would know, you love your coffee." There was another pregnant pause in which she fumbled for something to say. She kept remembering the mornings when he'd brought her coffee in bed. It hadn't happened all the time but when it had, she had been so happy ...

"Nah, she's coming in late today since there isn't any pressing need for her. I told her to get some extra sleep since when we go on tour it'll be her first. She's not used to that." Elly forced another smile, her hands fidgeting, tucking strands of hair back behind her ears. Surlaw noticed this in bitter amusement. She could lie, she could try and hide her feelings but she couldn't stop her hands from touching her hair.

"Yeah. Oh, crap." He made a face. "I should have known I didn't see her car." They stepped up to the larger room and he opened the door for her.

"She's worth it," Elly called out over her shoulder, yawning and politely covering her mouth as she did. "Man. One cup wasn't enough today."

"You should know that by now," he chuckled, pulling a chair up and sitting down comfortably. He knew it was stupid but his heart had begun to race faster at being alone with her in the enclosed room. When she sang he sometimes felt like it was still for him, her sweet voice blocking out all the negativity of the world and his soul.

"Blargh." He grinned. The cartoony sounds she made in everyday life were among one of the things he loved about her. He hefted his guitar in his arms and was about to say something else when he heard the door creak.

That had better be the fucking Joker...

"Yee, 'Bast!" Elly spun around and ran to the tall, pale man that was poking his head in the door. Since their makeup artist wasn't here yet he was sans the emo-boy shadows and smudges he generally sported and his pale face looked very different without the shadow.

More normal, Surlaw grudgingly thought. Even his outfit that day was generic: a plain, dark blue tank top and black jeans. Nothing to nitpick about.

"'Sup guys?" Bastian grinned. "Whoa there, pretty. Don't make me spill them." The other man smiled wryly when he saw the bass player had a paper tray with cups of coffee on it. That was his duty now, his pleasure. She eagerly took the tray from him and set it down on the small table in front of the music stands. He didn't miss the warm look in her eyes as she turned back to the other man. Bastian wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, not just a regular one but such a tender display Surlaw had no doubt in his mind that if they weren't making it they soon would be.

He turned his attention back to his guitar, thinking that he had to change those sheets soon. It was all he was thinking as he absently tuned and plucked a few strings. The sheets.

That was the important thing to think about.

Elly yawned and padded sleepily to the bathroom. She was staying overnight at Bastian's because she'd had a little too much to drink at the restaurant he'd taken her to. Since she hadn't planned on staying he'd loaned her one of his shirts to sleep in and given her the bed. He was such a gentleman to her all the time. Elly sighed to herself. The bed was big and soft, the sheets cool and silky and they smelled like the incense he liked to burn now and then.

Even so she couldn't sleep and it was closer to the bathroom than kitchen. She figured she'd get a glass of water here rather than chance waking him up as he slept on the couch.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside, frowning at the musky-sweet smell. It became clear it was his soap when the door opened and she was caught in a warm mist of after-shower. The young man was facing her, stretching one arm over his head. He had a bath towel gripped loosely in one hand that covered his lower body but when he saw her he involuntarily dropped the cloth.

Bastian's body was beautiful everywhere, she saw. His skin was the same shade almost everywhere, creamy white on his chest amidst the feather-tattoos that covered his upper muscles. The skin blended down his hairless belly to his loins and legs below without a tan line at all. The only place that wasn't pale was his exposed manhood and even then it was only slightly pink. He blinked at her, a slow flush creeping across his cheeks and even down his throat.

"Elly," he choked, his hand clutching at the towel that wasn't there anymore. She said nothing but watched the water dripping slowly down his flat belly and stubbled legs, pooling at his feet on the wooden mat. And what was worse was he was aroused by her calm, accepting stare which was causing a slow but noticeable reaction. His member pushed up and out gently sliding up so it perked towards his belly. Her gaze didn't seem to be lingering on that, however, but rather above at his chest. She looked up, met his pale, panicked eyes with her own and smiled just a little bit.

"The door was open," she explained, gesturing backwards.

"Oh." He faltered backwards until he was near the towel rack and swept a big, thick one from the bar. Bastian wrapped it around his lower half and folded it in place. Once that was done he felt much better but he was still nervous because she hadn't moved. He ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it uncharacteristically off his forehead. The pale young man looked strange without the white lock, shoved back to mix with the rest of his hair since he hadn't styled it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I couldn't sleep." She walked towards him and tilted her head to one side.

"Oh?" His voice cracked as his throat tightened up. His t-shirt covered her, but there was something about her wearing his clothing that made it sexier than lingerie. Her hand curled around his wet neck and he flinched wildly.

"I hope you're not nervous the whole time," she murmured.

"The... whole time?"

And his heart nearly stopped.

Elly's hand reached down and gently tugged the towel off again. The fabric slid down his hips to fall to the floor with a soft whump. He drew in a sharp breath and bent towards her as she raised her other hand to slide it around his neck as well. When their mouths met he whimpered softly, for he felt something different in her kiss, her body against his naked one. It was more pliant, blessedly willing. One of her hands slipped down his wet waist and he broke the kiss to cry out, Adam's apple straining as he threw his head back. Her palm grasped his rear, squeezed once.

"The whole time we make love," she clarified softly, little roses blooming in her cheeks as she spoke. She took his hand and led the startled young man back to the bedroom where he paused as if he still didn't quite understand what was happening. She sat carefully down at the edge of his bed, eyes cast demurely down. Bastian felt his breath catch in his throat. She was so beautiful to him, his angel. They'd gone through so much stupid shit and if she really meant what she said...

Elly moved her legs slightly, causing the shirt to ride up just enough so that he could see she wasn't wearing anything underneath. And suddenly it was as if something snapped inside him. Bastian was on her, making her hot, making her wet as he pressed his slick body on hers, making her want him.

He shocked her with his loving, so gentle but thoroughly satisfying. Somehow he knew exactly where to touch her, how to hold her. They seemed to fit perfectly together and there was no awkward fumbling or shifting of bodies. She cried out with pleasure when he entered her, shocked at the thrill as he touched some sweet place inside she didn't know existed. Bastian groaned deeply, straining to hold back as she writhed under him on the black silk sheets. He knew he wouldn't last long but he wanted to try to wait for her. His lanky body was almost dry now except for the tangled mess of his hair that flopped awkwardly as he thrust.

"So good," she whispered, her purple eyes dark and very, very wide as she moved with him. "Mmm, deeper."

"Hold on." He flexed his arms, locking himself in place above her. He began trying to bury himself as far as he could with every thrust and although he was strong he wondered if he could keep the pace up. "This? Like this?"

"Yes!"

"I love you," he groaned back, covering her neck with kisses. He panted out with every exhalation, filling the room with a steady series of "Ah, ah, ah..." Oh dear god, he was close. He wrestled with himself, knowing he didn't have a chance and he couldn't stem the tide when it broke.

"Don't stop, oh my god don't stop, Bastian..." His stomach clenched and he shouted in triumph as she arched towards him, nails scratching lightly at his back, eyes closed with tears beading at the corners. He'd done well for his love and that thought spiraled him into his own orgasm a few moments later. He dug his toes into the mattress, the smooth bow of his back straining so hard he'd find he had pulled a muscle later. Bastian took a few moments to recover, propped up on his palms resting lightly above her. It was the he noticed he'd been crying and he grinned abashedly.

"Not very manly, is it?"

"I do that sometimes," she said softly, reaching up to touch the wet trails on his cheeks.

"That was really good, wasn't it? It wasn't just me?" He took her hand and kissed it.

"It wasn't just you," she agreed. Her lavender eyes did indeed look dazed and there was a happy smile playing about her lips.

"Next time it'll be better," he promised. "I don't like to rush things, but..." He chuckled. "You startled me. Thank you." He pulled her arm around him and held her tight.

"You never asked if we needed a condom," she murmured drowsily as the thought struck her. She was amazed at his calm reply.

"It doesn't matter."

"Bastian."

"I'm sorry, but it's the way I feel."

"I'm on the pill, thanks for asking." She whapped him lightly on the chest. "But what do you mean? If it happened you wouldn't care?"

"Oh, I'd care." She nuzzled against him and watched his features soften, his blue eyes dreamy. "There's nothing more I could ask for than be the father of your children." He coughed, taken aback as her hand really hit him this time, thumping ineffectually on his belly but hard enough to get his attention.

"Damn it!"

"Too soon?" He asked a bit sheepishly as she began to cry. He held her closer, wrapping his legs around hers as they lay side by side.

"Too soon," she agreed. "You - you're so much."

"Is that a good thing?" He ended on a high note, hopeful.

"I don't believe you said that."

"I love you," he said again as if that explained everything. She was starting to understand that for him, it really did.

Amazing.

"We can't jump that fast into things. I mean, this is the first time we've ever had sex." He sighed, his breath ruffling her short hair. She felt him kiss the top of her head and then he raised her face to his with a single fingertip under her chin.

"I promise to be more careful," he told her solemnly. "And not to blurt out such ridiculous things." He winked. "Especially when you're all gooey after such sweet lovemaking."

She had to laugh: really laugh, full and sweet and strong. Bastian was almost more excited to hear that than anything else.

Surlaw plodded back to the large practice room stretching and scratching aimlessly at his hat. Rather than take it off, the fedora was such a part of him that he sometimes did things like that without noticing. He'd ran off - "have to spend a penny", he'd quipped before leaving, which never failed to make everyone crack up -- and was returning from the bathroom to their session with a light heart. Julian wasn't there today, he had gotten a cold and was staying at home to recoup for a couple days so it was just Elly, Surlaw and Bastian. He had thought it would be awkward but time had passed smoothly so far. The couple hadn't cuddled or did anything outrageously affectionate. Their relationship was starting to become more commonplace. Surlaw shrugged as he reached a hand out towards the door. As long as they didn't start making out in front of him, he was fine. He stopped with one leather-clad glove open, inches from the knob. They were talking and she sounded agitated.

What's this?

"But this is a song about - well, you know." Elly was protesting. Surlaw snickered to himself. The little bastard was probably trying so hard to have sex with her he'd written a new song. Most of his work was romantic in nature and the fans loved it because it was obvious when he sang about longing what he meant.

"I'm not ashamed or afraid to say we're loving each other. Y'know people will eat this up, too." He mimicked the awestruck, high-pitched voice of a teenage fan. "Oh, my gawd, they finally did it! Did they? They did, right? Listen to this!" Then he laughed with her as she snorted. The words crushed all doubt in the Surlaw's mind. He slowly blinked back into focus, his green eyes glazed over. His face burned, his chest hurt. For a moment he thought he was actually sick but when he started to focus again he cursed at himself. That would have been easier.

What God had chosen to have him hear that?

And although his gut twisted inward and he couldn't stop his hands from shaking something had snapped. It was the last sign he'd been waiting for, the one that proved she was finished with him. He'd thought he was over her.

You are, and you know it!

He'd taken an instant dislike to the gothy little bass player and time had only caused it to flourish. Nurtured by the fact that the shit wrote (and sang) their first best-seller, had managed to stay in the band even when he'd personally wanted him gone and was making her happier than he had...

Surlaw instantly dismissed that last, shoved it into the dark closet he'd pushed all the other feelings into. Anger was better and if he thought about the times they'd shared too long he might confuse himself with thinking he still cared. He'd do what the other man had done and stand by her like the friends they were - are, he reminded himself. The way we are.

"Back," he grunted amiably enough as he shoved the door open and walked in. Bastian was standing in front of Elly with a batch of sheet music in one hand. He turned and grinned, a slender man that was taller but not bigger than the guitarist. His ice blue eyes once again struck Surlaw as unnatural. They were too bloody pale, just like his skin. He wondered if the man wore contacts. He wouldn't put it past him.

Not afraid of me anymore, Surlaw noted sourly. He wouldn't admit why but seeing the younger man jump when he walked by had always given him a warm little glow. Apparently shagging his ex had done wonders for his backbone.

"I was just telling Els about the new piece I wrote. You up for checking it out?"

"Sure, give it here." He held out one gloved hand and took the music, scanning the music itself and not the words just yet.

"We're playing it close to the bone," Bastian shrugged apologetically.

"How so?" He raised a bushy eyebrow under the dark shadow of his hat. "This sounds like it's a good score."

"Read it?"

"Yeah." Surlaw also shrugged. "The fan service sells. I'm easy with it." Elly didn't say anything but she smiled at him. He grinned back, a large one that showed lots of his teeth. "Besides, I like being the bad guy."

"Pffft!" She blew a huge breath out when he said that and he laughed. Bastian's smile was a bit crooked this time but he nodded at the brown-haired guitarist.

"It's just for show," he said.

"Right." Surlaw tapped the brim of his hat up so he could stare more directly at him. "What else? Drama sells, sex sells. This has both." Elly's back was turned as she had begun to fiddle with the music stand behind them. She coughed when he said that and winced a little.

"You know you don't have to do it..."

"Oh, come on!" He stepped over to her and enfolded her in a huge bear hug. Bastian blinked in surprise but didn't move. He merely watched, hand absently toying with the silvered knife shard that hung around his neck. "Relax a little. You've been jumpy around me ever since you started dating him."

"Blame me?" She laughed softly but hugged him back, feeling better than she ever had about the situation.

"No. We talked it out. It's fine. We're just closer friends now, right?" Surlaw glanced over at the bassist and saw he was frowning a little. He raised an eyebrow and didn't let go until Bastian took a step forward.

"Yay." Elly seemed relieved. Her lavender eyes sparkled with excitement over a new piece to work on. She loved the business of being on stage, putting on a good show that really never felt fake to her. And to have Bastian singing again was thrilling enough. "Let's practice. Am I going to be bass or guitar, then? I'm not very good at either, you know..."

He owned the stage when he was out on it but never knew it. It was just a part of him, his dark clothing shadows in the wings that grew more pronounced when he sang, directing his mild tenor voice at the crowd. Pale, creamy almost-white skin stood out even under the artificial lights accented by a long trench coat and laced leather pants.

He wore makeup, but not in a womanish fashion. The dark, brooding smudges under and above his eyes didn't make people question his masculinity.

Thick-heeled boots strapped and embraced all the way up his long, long legs to mid-thigh. The buckles shone silver, caught flashes of color and sparkle as the fabric he wore above swirled and blossomed when he paced.

No shirt.

No need; he didn't like cloth touching his chest and the tattoos decorating his upper body were more than enough to give an illusion of some upper clothing if one didn't look closely enough. A fine feather work of thin and accenting dark black lines covered him above, falling to just below lightly toned pectoral muscles. One feather was slightly off to the side but very few realized it was that way for a reason: it hid a thin, ghostlike scar from him and others as well. The silver chain and knife fragment dangled around his neck, a constant reminder of how he'd risked his life some time ago. Elly stared up at him as he held her and sighed as he sang. They band had decided that this time she wouldn't play anything an instrument but she was an integral part of the song anyway; Bastian wouldn't have it otherwise. The song was about her so she would be with him. Simple. Although used to performing fan service she still blushed when he laid her down on the stage and knelt above her. With his head thrown back and his body positioned that way it was remarkably sexy. She grinned when he kissed her hand and gently helped her to her feet, his singing over. The crowd had screamed madly at the kiss and didn't seem to want to settle down even when the music ended; they cheered and called random names out. Julian and Surlaw nodded here and there but Bastian was being moody-romantic again and was only staring at Elly, who he had picked up and now held in his arms. He paused then kissed her on the neck at which several females shrieked shrilly in the front row.

"Too much," she mouthed at him. He winked slyly, a lock of white from the shocked bangs falling over his other eye and obscuring it briefly. She smiled at that, turned her head to the crowd to wave in happy exuberance which elicited laughter and more applause.

"Mmm, good show," he laughed breathlessly, whirling her around amidst the noise and confusion when they were backstage.

"Bastian!"

"What?"

"Put me down, you doof." She kicked aimlessly at the air and started giggling when he shook his head wildly from side to side like a little boy.

"No way." He raced down the hall ignoring the startled shouts from the backstage crew and veering to the side to avoid crashing into a large flower display someone was carrying out to the van. "We get to stay the night at that awesome resort - I'm too psyched!"

"Watch out, Julie!" Elly shrieked more laughter when the drummer jumped aside over and onto a padded seat. Bastian clomped up the steps with his thick-soled boots and plopped down on one of the seats, pulling her onto his lap and snuggling with her before she'd even got settled.

When they arrived the lobby had a piano in a corner that was open and inviting. Bastian's eyes lit up and he slowly sidled over to a woman behind the counter and asked a few questions. Elly was busy checking them in so she didn't notice what he was doing until people started clapping and the hall filled with piano music. Blinking in astonishment she turned to find her boyfriend plonking away at a tune that eluded her for a moment... that is, until he started to sing. A campy-fun Eighties' tune all about how she had "what he wanted" caused them to all crack up. Julian was hanging over the counter laughing with Surlaw at his antics. Even when he finished with a flourish the music resounded in the lobby for a haunting few seconds. Bastian got up, bowed and rushed over to Elly, skidding the last few feet on his knees to general applause and hooting.

"Ow, dammit!"

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"That's not as easy as it looks. I think I have wood burn or something."

"Didn't you get enough showtime at the concert?" Grinning, she helped him to his feet. He linked his arm around hers, picked up their overnight bags in the other hand and scoffed.

"Um. No."

"I didn't know you played piano, too!" They stepped alone into the elevator and Bastian craned his neck to see what number she pushed.

"I play a few more things. Where'd they put us? In the suites?" He squeezed her happily when she nodded.

"You're downright bubbly, Bast," she noted, flicking a lock of her hair aside as it tickled her cheek. "What's gotten into you? Not that I mind!"

"This will be the first time we're actually spending the night together as a planned thing," he said dreamily. She wrinkled her nose, waiting for him to start inevitably gushing poetry but he snickered and nipped her neck instead. "I packed my special undies."

"Bastian!"

"I did." He stooped and hefted the bags they had packed earlier. "I snuck a few things in after you'd packed your stuff." The elevator's bell rang and they got out at their floor, walking slowly down the huge hallway to their suite. When she pushed the door open he grinned in delight. It was perfect, the flower display he'd had sent up on the dining table and lavender sprays cascading from that along the pristine white carpet to the bedroom.

"I wonder what you have in mind," she murmured softly, lips twitching in the hint of a smile. Bastian was already slipping the scarves she wore on her arms off and running his hands down her bare arms to her waist. He stepped up close behind her and kissed her neck again.

"Not if you don't want to, of course," he whispered softly in her ear. He slid out of the trench coat and threw it over a nearby chair.

"After all that serenading? You know what your voice does to me." She paused. "Not to mention your body, your hands, your..."

"Shh," he giggled faintly. "You have to help me take all this off. Yours is easier."

"I know." Elly smirked. "I don't like complicated outfits on myself." Bastian rolled his eyes dramatically and laid on the bed, yelping as he sank into it.

"Water mattress!"

"Oh my god, no way."

"This is almost going to be too much fun."

Bastian yawned and pulled back the bedsheets, climbing in and rolling onto his back. Hotels were all fun and games, he supposed, but home was where you could really get a good night's sleep. He fidgeted around on the pillow, getting his head in the right spot and looking around in dreamy contentment. Elly padded into his bedroom on bare feet wearing what she used for a night gown: a t-shirt so long it flopped past her knees. He smiled drowsily at her and brushed his bangs away from his forehead.

"I looked forward to this all day," he murmured as she crept into bed beside him, drawing the sheets to their middles. She rested her cheek against the upper part of his chest, arms and hands on his chest as well, one lightly embracing his neck. He carefully curled his arms around to hold her while they slept. It was a great position - he hadn't gotten pins and needles in his arms yet. He'd joked before that it was their patented cuddle and she'd agreed it was great. It was difficult sleeping with someone whose habits differed from your own and it always took a little getting used to. Bastian hadn't managed very well over the years but he made allowances for her because she was too damned cute when she slept. He actually enjoyed sleeping on his back, in fact.

"Did you?" Her voice already sounded muzzy with sleep. She kissed the skin closest to her lips and he smiled.

"Of course." He kissed the top of her head, started to hum in the back of his throat in pleasure. "I love how your hair smells."

"It probably smells doggy," she quipped. "After all day outside fooling around on the studio beach..."

"Smells like you." He nuzzled affectionately at the purple tresses. There weren't many but enough to play with. He paused. "Does Chas do your hair? Dye it, I mean?"

"Mm, yeah, now she does. I used to go to a place before that."

"What color's your actual hair?" Bastian frowned, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Elly without the unnatural shade.

"Gray," she coughed lowly.

"Gray? You're not even 30 yet, Els. You've still got a year."

"What does that matter? I was all gray by twenty-two." She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "The good thing was I almost never got carded before I was legal."

"I really want to see you without the dye," he insisted. "Would you let it go back?" His long fingers stroked her cheek as she lay gazing contentedly at him.

"Is it that important, Bast?"

"Not really," he confessed sheepishly. "I just want to see all of you." He sighed when she caressed his neck, trailing her fingers down his chest to toy with the silver pendant he wore. She slipped it aside and ran a palm over his feather tattoos. Bastian held his breath.

"What's this?" Elly paused and rubbed a finger pad along a tiny rough scar. She'd never noticed it before because it was so thin and pale, unlike the bigger one on his back. The feather tattoos hid it almost perfectly and she'd never have found it except for the way the pale moonlight was shining on his bare body.

"Ahh, you found it." He sighed and drew himself up to a sitting position against the back of the headboard, gathering her in his arms as he did so. "That's a scar I got a very long time ago."

"Before the tattoos?"

"Way before." He smiled gently at her. He found that it surprisingly didn't hurt as much as it used to. Maybe that was part of her magic, his baby. "We didn't live in a very good neighborhood when I grew up. There were these people down the street from our flat that raised fighting dogs."

"Uh oh," she murmured.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I was maybe five years old and one broke away from the guy that was feeding it or something. I think it was all excited 'cause of feeding time and maybe I smelled good. I don't know, I was only little. It knocked me down and tore out a good chunk of my upper chest... real close to my throat." Elly clung to him as he spoke, her eyes wide.

"It's so small," she marveled quietly.

"I grew a lot," he said wryly. "It faded after a lot of time and when I was a teen I hated it, so I spent all my time putting all this shit on it that was supposed to help lighten it up. When I was old enough I got the tattoos."

"I bet that hurt," she winced. "Did they?"

"Nah." Bastian rubbed at his half-lidded eyes with the back of one hand. "But I never told anyone that." He yawned and rubbed her back while she continued her close up scrutiny of his chest. It really didn't bother him. He wanted her to know, like he wanted to know everything about her.

"No one?" Her eyes met his.

"No lie."

"Wow. Am I that special, handsome?" She propped herself up on her elbows, kicking the sheets idly with a foot.

"You have to ask?" He rolled his shoulders back with a sigh.

"Not really," Elly admitted slyly. "I just like hearing you get all sappy and romantic."

"Oh ho," he chuckled softly. "That's not a bad thing, pretty." He pulled her up even closer and kissed her rather seriously on the mouth.

"I still get embarrassed!"

"I know, you started to blush." He tickled her side lightly and she began to giggle, wiggling but not able to squirm away since he had her in his arms. Besides, the sheets tangled her legs up and she flopped against him, defeated in record time.

"Bast!"

"It's not shameful or anything to like some praise now and then." He cupped the back of her head in one hand. "You deserve it because I say so."

"You're a dream I always used to have," she said wonderingly. "I really didn't think it was possible to find someone like you." Bastian's low cry caused her to jump slightly. He crushed her to him, raining kisses on her cheek and neck.

They didn't get much rest right then but afterward they slipped off to sleep sweetly in each other's arms. Both had very good dreams that night but nothing compared to when they woke up and saw each other, remembered their conversation and knew they'd have many more to come.

Surlaw dreamed of her that afternoon, laying on his deck in the sun with his hat tilted over his shade-protected eyes. He didn't know he had, though. The big man woke up feeling angry and dissatisfied for reasons he didn't understand. His fists clenched tight to stop himself from punching the table beside him where his beer sat in a puddle of warm evaporation.

"Nesh wimp," he grumbled restlessly. He was pathetic, sitting around doing nothing when he should be going out. The band had taken the day off but he just felt like laying around. You could say he didn't have any drive, any will.

He yawned, snapping his mouth closed as if biting down on his own irrational fury. Rubbing his furry brown sideburns he stood and glanced around. The beer was nasty by now and he grabbed it to toss it in the sink. As he got up he winced at the sting on his shoulders - shit, sunburn!

"I don't need any bloody SPF hundred and one," he snorted. And now he remembered why he was out here. He'd gotten pissed out of his mind and come out to get "a tan", something that little prick wouldn't have in his life. Surlaw could tan. He did it badly but he'd managed it by subjecting himself to the elements on a daily basis back when he'd been a teenager. Bad idea to fall asleep out here though. He rubbed one bare, red shoulder and saw the sun had caused his freckles to pop out again.

"Bloody hell." He'd have to live with it. Striding over to the glass door he snicked it open and it shut behind him as he stepped through. The inside of his place was cool and inviting, a welcome change to the heat. He sighed and moved to the kitchen, setting the open can down on the counter. He'd get to it later. Right now he wanted a shower.

As he was stripping his trunks off he thought he knew something he could do later. He still had the number of that blond chick he'd taken out to lunch that one time - the one that had started all this bullshit. He thought she might be amenable to going out, maybe seeing a movie or some dumb shit like that. He lightly kicked the door open and dug around in a pocket of his corduroy pants for his cell. Yeah, it was still there. He tapped the button and was soon making a date, because of course she said yes. She didn't have anything but a tenuous modeling job and he was a top-billing performer.

He'd better hurry; he had to shower and pick out clothing that didn't hurt this stupid burn before six. He snorted and checked the phone before tossing it onto an end table in the hallway.

Five o'clock. Plenty of time. She was going to meet him here and they'd walk to this place nearby. He knew he was going to drink a lot more tonight.

When she arrived she was gorgeous, a light blond haired beauty dressed in a flattering red gown with spaghetti straps. They clashed terribly - he always did with his dates -- but his light brown top did have some red in the striping and it wasn't too bad a mix. They greeting each other with a light hug and he again had that feeling of something that was out of place, that was wrong: her perfume smelled like some celebrity blend. It was harsh, he didn't like it.

Well at least she looked good.

They strolled casually down the semi-busy streets talking aimlessly about minor things. When they got to the restaurant they were seated quickly to avoid any fuss and he held her chair for her.

"Do they always do that for you?"

"Mostly everywhere I go. Especially when I'm with someone else." He cursed himself for that slip of the tongue.

"I wasn't, like, the cause of your breaking up with her like the papers said, was I?" She got right down to something that had obviously been worrying her. She was dazed and, well, completely baffled by his attitude. He wasn't acting like guys she dated usually did. Surlaw sighed.

"It doesn't matter, right? The tabloids tear us to pieces every single day. Don't listen to any of it." He shrugged.

"But you're upset over it..."

"No. I'm not. She's dating someone and so am I." He said this last firmly, his mouth set.

"Okay." She smiled and he grinned back. She was so much more perfect than anyone he'd ever been with. He'd never thought he'd date someone that was a freaking model. It was unbelievable. Any other man would have had reservations about whether she actually liked him or his fame and money but the swaggering British-born man wasn't like that. He ordered everything of the best with plenty of wine and alcohol in general. It didn't take them both long to get tipsy, and before dinner had come they were pleasantly bombed. He knew he could get her into bed without a single bit of trouble and he considered it for a moment, staring down the low-cut dress she was wearing in appreciation.

Maybe he had to get drunker. But if he drank any more he wouldn't even be able to have sex.

Too late, he thought ruefully. He'd also made the mistake of drinking in public, around someone he didn't know very well. Surlaw swore under his breath. He vaguely knew that crying would be a bad idea but as they walked back to his place he couldn't help it - he had to either get angry or blubber like a silly fool. He ripped his hat off his head, exposing a wild mop of brown hair and slammed the worn brown fedora to the ground.

"Damn it!" The poor girl jumped back in terror, her vapid expression whisking off her face to be replaced by one of instinctive cunning. She laid a hand on his arm and bent slightly over, smiling at him sweetly.

"You are still upset."

"Doesn't matter." He bent and snatched his hat off the pavement. He was pretty sure there'd be pictures of that someplace in a few days but he didn't give a shit right now.

"Yeah, you can't have fun yet." She paused with her head tilted to one side. "I'm gonna go get my car and go home. You call me when you're ready to go out. Really ready." And she left him standing there with his mouth open. Left him! He almost shouted after her but it would have caused a huge scene. He concentrated on making his way back to his apartment with talking to as few people as possible.

He was in a royal poor mood. How dare she leave him.

He entered with an angry bump of his shoulder and kicked furiously at a small wolf plush that had fallen off the counter when he slammed the door.

How dare she leave him?!

"My baby," he moaned softly, kissing her swollen lips and moving against her. The water splashed lightly around them and he wondered again if they could make love in his hot tub, if it was possible underwater. He'd never tried it before with anyone else. Of course he'd never owned a hot tub before and that may have been why. The tub wasn't warm since it was summer time for them, dry heat under the hot Californian sun. Bastian had gone and gotten ice to cool it down from a tip he'd read on the internet and they were relaxing in the semi-cool water together.

If relaxing meant making out, that is.

"There," she breathed.

"Oh my sweet, sweet baby, yes..."

"Damn, you know what it does to me when you talk like that!" Elly clutched at his back, wrapping her legs around him under the swirling bubbles. "Bastian."

"Mnn, I know, can't help it." He ran both hands along the sides of her short-cropped hair, staring intently at her flushed face. "You like it, though, don't you pretty?"

"You're so silly." Her eyes warmed him to his heart, they really did. Bastian sighed and held her close for a long moment.

"I've been thinking," he whispered in her ear, kissing just underneath it when he paused. "No jokes?"

"Not when you're doing that!" She laughed helplessly as he kissed softly at her neck.

"I'll remember that," he grinned and sucked delicately on the soft lobe as he thought how he wanted to word this once more. "Hmm, anyway. We've been staying at each others places every night, every day when we get the chance."

"Yeah." Elly bent her neck to the side to give him better access. Bastian hummed low in his throat and nibbled this time. "Get to the point, honey, or I won't be able to think!"

"Oh, that's nice." He sighed happily at the affectionate term. "I don't want to be apart from you at all. Why don't we just make it easier and move in together?" Elly drew in breath quickly. She hadn't been entirely sure he wouldn't simply propose but he was taking his promise to her "not jump into things" seriously. She saw what it had cost him to make this offer and melted under his earnest little-boy expression. A smile twitched the corners of her mouth upward.

"What place, though? How would we decide?"

"We could get a new one, together, maybe." He waved an arm about. "I can sell the condo. I don't care, it's not like I'm attached to it or anything." He shook himself when she reached over and began toying with his scruff of chin hair.

"Did you think about this more after I told you my lease is coming up for renewal?"

"I put a lot of effort into thinking this through." He snuggled along her side on the seat in the hot tub. "That was part of it, yeah. I'm trying really hard to go slow and not freak you out like I did the first time we made love."

"You get so emotional," she murmured fondly, touching his cheek. "I want to be with you, too, but you know I was scared back then."

"Well, now you know I'm not leaving you. Ever." He took her hand in his and kissed the palm softly. "You want to do it?"

"I always said I wouldn't live with a guy until I got married," she began slowly and was touched as always when his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, don't. I didn't say no!"

"I'm not crying." He lifted his chin, lower lip thrust out as he struggled not to let the drops fall. "Wait, what did you say?"

"I didn't say 'no'," she told him. Elly leaned back and dipped a hand in the clear water, playing with the liquid and splashing droplets up with little flicks of her fingertips. "I always said I didn't want to live with anyone before marriage. Now I want you."

"Oh, man, does that mean yes?" Bastian's ice-blue eyes grew very, very wide. He stood over her in the tub and placed his hands on either side of her. "You want me in your life that much, baby?" He arched down and kissed her deeply, whimpering when she reached around to hold him.

"Yes, Bastian, I really do."

"I'm never leaving you," he moaned passionately, moving above her in such a way that she gasped, her cheeks pinking prettily.

"Bast..."

"One of these days, weeks, months I'll ask you another question," he panted. "I'll be faithful and strong and there for you no matter what and you'll say yes again..." His voice trailed off thickly and he gave himself over to kissing her so he'd shut himself up.

And what do you know.

It was possible.

Slightly difficult, but possible. Bastian wasn't one to let a difficult task stand in the way of what he wanted, though. He'd just proved that again and again.

They'd been working really hard lately on their new song set and liking it. The long days in the little studio paid off; Mister Zero liked to record together, not have their work edited digitally like most bands did nowadays. It was tougher on them but it was part of the reason for their success since everything sounded so much better in the long run.

And of course their live concerts kicked ass.

Today was one of those tough days of nine to god-knows-what-hour-of-the-night practice sessions and they'd grown tired and hungry after several hours. Julian had suggested they order take out and eat in the common room this time instead of going out. They didn't eat together often in that group room but they didn't want to lose the groove they were in, so to speak. Before the food arrived they were all drinking soda - water in Elly's case since she couldn't clog her voice with anything while working. They relaxed for some time and then Bastian sighed.

"You should tell them, baby."

"Tell us what?" Julian stopped blowing bubbles in his soda for a minute.

"I guess, since we're all here."

"Yep."

"What's up?" Surlaw frowned a little at the dark-haired young man.

"Bastian and I are moving in together," Elly said happily.

Surlaw immediately choked on his drink. He coughed for awhile, pointing apologetically at his throat as his face turned red. He bent over the side of the couch and hung his head down between his knees while he tried to stop and regain control. Bastian was looking curiously at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Whoa," he murmured, toying with the stem of his glass. His silver signet ring gleamed under the artifical light.

"You all right, bro?" Julian poked Surlaw's back. He flapped a hand backwards to let the drummer know he was fine and took a deep breath of air. When he could somewhat breathe again he spoke to Elly, not her boyfriend.

"You're... moving in with him?"

"I asked yesterday," Bastian said, answering for her. "We just wanted everyone to know. It'll come up, anyway. Gotta give you our new number when we get it." Elly crossed her legs demurely and stole his glass as he spoke. She was sitting with him since he'd insisted, snug against the side of the padded chair with her legs propped up over the other. Bastian's arm cradled her back so she wasn't uncomfortable in the strange position.

"I gotta go to the loo," Surlaw muttered and left in a rush.

"Crap, he took it hard." Bastian blinked. "I think."

"Why would he?" Elly looked confused.

"I'll go," Julian grumped. He shoved his thick mass of curls back and pointed at his friend. "You owe me again, you twit."

"Another year's worth of rides should cover everything you do for me," Bastian grinned. He slipped an arm around his girl and bent towards her as she said something. The drummer grumbled to himself as he ran down the hall, his untucked t-shirt flapping loosely on his lanky body. He scratched his cheek reflectively, looking around. There were three bathrooms in the studio they owned: a public sort in the first half, two dressing rooms with toilets and sinks attached in the right wing and...

"The little one, here." He pelted off towards the closest and soon slammed into the bathroom. It was a single next to Chastity's makeup room, small and private. Surlaw was staring blankly into the mirror above the sink. His gloved hands were flexing and relaxing ceaselessly on the ceramic basin but the rest of his body was completely still.

"Hey!"

"You didn't lock the door, ass. Now what's your problem? I doubt you had to take a piss."

"Bloody hell," he swore.

"Don't go all Brit on me, dickface." He leaned back on the door, blocking it and crossing his arms. "Cough it up. I'm sick of this."

"Nothing's wrong." Surlaw's eyes narrowed. Julian briefly noticed again that the man had a good fifty pounds - some of it even muscle -- and several inches on himself. He'd be screwed in a fight. That only got his back up more, though. He tapped his foot impatiently on the tiled floor, the dusty sneaker flopping erratically.

"Bullshit. You're upset because they're gonna be living together." Julian shrugged. "You said you were over her. You're not fooling anyone, Wolf."

"Fuck," he groaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, no."

"Man, you gotta deal. Seriously. It's all over for you guys."

"They're not married yet," the big man grated. "So I made a mistake. I can fix it."

"They're getting closer to it," Julian shrugged, his green curls bouncing as he did. They stepped out of the room together and Surlaw adjusted his shades when they began walking back. "You can't get her back now, man. It's too late."

Surlaw swore again, more violently this time.

"Don't turn all of this into a pissing contest with Bastian. He didn't do it to you when you were with her." Julian frowned. "And, just for the record, I hate being the fucker stuck in the middle, all right?" He stormed back to the room without looking back and threw himself onto his place on the couch.

"Everything all right?" Bastian glanced up at his friend.

"I think he figured something out," Julian remarked sourly. "Watch your back."

"So, d'ya think that's it?" Bastian looked around at the near-empty apartment. A single cardboard box was all that seemed to be left of the furnishings and objects she owned. They'd been carting boxes in and out all day out of her place to his in a small, very nondescript truck. Elly had sold most of her furniture and placed the more special pieces in a rented storage unit she purchased. It was almost finished and he felt very pleased with the day's work. By tonight they'd be living together - her things with his, showering and using the same everything. He sighed and rubbed absently at his aching shoulders. Her stuffed animal collection hadn't been heavy but it was quite large, and there had been many boxes.

They didn't want to ask for help from their friends, either. Bastian had ticked Surlaw off the list immediately (for obvious reasons) and he'd really been asking too much of Julian lately. Besides, he had personal reasons for wanting to do it all himself. It was tedious work but it felt good inside.

"I think we've got everything," he said with some satisfaction.

"Yes. Now sit," she invited suddenly, swiping at his leg from where she lay on the carpet.

"Wh - what are you..." He stumbled backwards onto her lap and was immediately encircled by her legs around his middle.

"You've been doing all the work," she said simply, kneading his shoulders with a firm touch. Bastian sighed and relaxed. Elly slipped her hands under his shirt and pulled the simple tee off. He raised his arms over his head to help her and tossed the shirt negligently on top of the nearby box. She traced the scar that ran from his left shoulder blade to his waist, pressed her cheek against his sweaty back.

"Feels good," he murmured dreamily.


	11. Chapter Eleven

"I'm not a very good masseuse," she said sheepishly. "But I'll try."

"What did I do to deserve this, anyway?" He asked lightly, rolling his shoulders back and lifting his head for a kiss. He stretched his long legs along the floor more comfortably.

"For one, you've been the one doing most of the lifting," she admitted. "I love you, Bastian." He closed his eyes and shivered, reaching up with one hand to cup her face closer to his.

"I love you too, baby." They kissed and held it for a very long time. When they finally parted the pale young man chuckled. "For a minute there I thought you remembered."

"Uh oh, what did I forget?" He was digging around in his jeans with a look of concentration and worry when he didn't immediately find what he was looking for.

"Thank god," he muttered when he brought out a tiny blue velvet box. "Frigging thing was so flat I thought I dropped it." He poked it up to her on two fingers. "Open it. It's for you."

"Me? What did you ...?" Elly popped the box open and froze. "Is this, oh my god. Is that all real?"

"Ice blue and purple topaz," he grinned up at her. "My eyes, your eyes."

"The other stones?" She pointed an unpolished yet neatly manicured nail at the shining clear ones that were catching the light and refracting rainbow patterns within themselves. His eyes sparkled almost exactly like the blue stones set in the bracelet.

"Guess."

"Bastian!"

"What? You didn't forget what I told you about my previous relationships, did you?"

"They didn't last long?" She sounded unsure of herself, holding the diamonds and precious stones up to the light, admiring them and a little embarrassed that he'd bought her such an expensive gift.

"Not a one over three or four months." Elly set the bracelet down and looked him in the eye. He laughed delightedly. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Happy five month anniversary, baby," he said softly, suddenly dead serious. He got up and turned around so he was kneeling above her lap facing her.

"Five?"

"Probably been a little more," he shrugged. "But I wanted to be sure. Besides, now we're living together I wanted to get you something. Call me old-fashioned if you like." He touched his forehead to hers. She squeaked a little, unable to say anything at all. Her throat felt like it had closed up and she could only hold out her wrist for him to hook the catch on the gorgeous thing. This was the most pricey gift she'd ever gotten. The bracelet was quite certainly worth more than what most women's wedding bands themselves.

She didn't need it.

She hadn't wanted it, asked for it or anything.

But he'd done it anyway, an extravagant display for a seemingly trivial moment. Bastian saw her consternation and laughed softly.

"You know how I feel about you. In my mind it's not enough." Elly slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his as he spoke. "I'll say it again and again..I've never loved anyone like you. I never wanted anyone, would give anything for someone like this." She managed a little choke this time and he sighed. The necklace he wore lay against his feather tattoos and she absently reached out and took it up in one hand.

"You almost gave everything," she said in a voice near tears.

"Mmm hmm." He stood and easily lifted her in his arms. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you, remember? All the time."

"I'm sure my fish and your meat-eating plants will love each other." She giggled whimsically, thinking of their "pets" being in the same house together.

"They don't eat fish!"

"Wouldn't they?"

"Maybe, if I cut it up for them." He chuckled under his breath, holding up his thumb and forefinger to show something really small. "Like, this big."

"I can't wait to see you feed them."

"I can't wait to see those fish of yours glow at night."

"Why don't we leave this place, then, and go home?" He shivered happily at the sound of the word and got up, offering her his hand.

"Why don't we?"

He stared dumbly at the receiver he held in his hand. Her voice was on the other end, but that wasn't all. The message he was hearing had his voice as well. The message was from both of them in case someone called for either one. Surlaw carefully reached out and placed the phone back in its cradle on the wall. He scratched at his messy brown hair with one bare hand. Since he was inside and relaxing he wore only a white undershirt and a pair of plaid shorts that were more butterscotch color than anything; yellows and mustards and browns and tans all mixed together.

"That rips it," he muttered under his breath. They'd really gone and done it. He walked slowly to his couch and threw himself down on it, causing the springs to squeak under his weight. His place was messy; his paisley jacket was thrown over a chair in the dining room and papers and mail were scattered carelessly all over the table. His precious hat was hung precariously over the crazy light fixture he'd bought in an auction someplace; it was tall, had bendable arms and the yellow shades were painted in brown circles and swirls. He glanced at it, amused that his shorts matched his furniture.

His gaze turned to the kitchen are and he grunted. He just couldn't bear to throw out the stuffed wolf she had won him at a silly festival they had went to and the thing sat hopelessly on the counter next to the toaster for some bizarre reason. It had looked so forlorn that last night when he'd been drinking he'd had to turn it around to face the wall. The stare seemed to be going right through him, accusing him. He'd never gotten her a plush toy. He knew it was her favorite thing, hell, a shelf in her apartment (now their condo, his mind relentlessly reminded him) had been stuffed with them. Little plush fish and dragons and shit like that. The wolf in the kitchen was a constant nagging companion that asked the same question he did in the back of his mind all day.

Why hadn't he done (this) or (that)?

He'd been stupid, sure, he hadn't told her how he felt at that critical moment when she'd asked. Jealous, angry over her constant interviews and photo shoots with the man that had saved her life, he'd remained silent. What if he told her now, would it make a difference? Maybe she had been in love with the other ass before their breakup. Elly had acted strangely the night of the stabbing. He couldn't understand why had she been so upset when he'd said Bastian was gay that night. He was, wasn't he? I mean, he'd dated guys before. That made him a poof in Surlaw's opinion. He was sure he'd had sex with some dude at one point or another. That - among other things -- made it really burn that he was sleeping with her now.

"Sod it," he grunted under his breath. Everything was crap and he knew it. Let the other man have her if she was that way. Let him worry about her, care for her, be with her...

It made him even angrier. He got up and grabbed his acoustic guitar from its case on top of the scratched wood coffee table. He laid back, crossed his hairy legs along the couch's length and began to play aimlessly. Thing is, he wasn't a song writer. He could play well enough but he couldn't write. He'd never be able to play something for her to make her see. The fact that emo bassist could really ticked him off. All he could do was run some old seventies' music, sad, mellow and not enough. He grunted and kept his fingers moving fast as his mind. They weren't married. They were just living together. But the way she looked at Bastian was different than the way she looked at him. Different than the way she used to look at him, he thought pointedly.

He could get drunk again.

Surlaw sighed, gazing wistfully at the dark wood of the liquor cabinet. It wouldn't solve anything, just help pass the time until he had to go to the studio again and see them together. His furry eyebrows drew together as he remembered the band had a photo shoot again the next day. That was the worst - the pictures where they posed together so lovingly. Never mind he'd done the same and snickered evilly at the other man while he had, too. Bastian never gloated save that once in that raw fish place. He wrinkled his forehead. Nasty stuff. It was why he'd never wanted to go eat there even if she liked it. He couldn't choke any of it down. His face grew darker as he recalled how the pale young man had grinned impudently at him. He'd pissed his girl off and he knew it. He'd been there with her in the first place, after all! Taking her to the spot she'd wanted to be while he'd taken that blond whore. He snorted. Bigger mistake, that. She had done the same thing Elly had, walked out on him during a damned date. The hell was wrong with these women?

It surely wasn't him, after all.

"I'm still worried about him, Julie. He's not right lately." Elly watched Surlaw's strange antics on the set of the photo shoot and grimaced.

"I know," the drummer agreed. "It's like he's throwing himself into the 'bad guy' part a little too well." He ran a hand through his green curls and grimaced. "I've tried hangin' with him and all - he's a good drinkin' buddy but he gets fuckin' mad when he does all the time now."

"What happened?" Elly looked worried as she watched her ex-boyfriend snarl at the camera. The photo shoot was for a popular rock magazine and they wanted ...well, they wanted rock. Surlaw had snickered and told them he'd give them as much as - or more than -- they could handle. He was playing the angry rocker, all right, and the mag might think it was awesome for the shoot but they could see it wasn't all games for him. She glanced around quickly but Bastian wasn't around yet. He was probably secluded in the dressing room or with the makeup artist here so she grabbed Julian's shoulder and shook gently.

"Whafuck?"

"Tell Bastian if I can't get to him first that we've all got to look as much like that as we can. Like it's a thing, rock out hard you know? Sneering and all that. Don't let it look like he's gone batshit."

"Why'd you still care, Els?" Julian stuffed his hands in his pockets. "He's bein' an asshole."

"I told you," she stressed, "we're a family and everyone has their bad times. He's still our friend. He's just having problems."

"Good answer."

"No shit." Elly shrugged.

The shoot was simple and blessedly fast. Once Bastian had joined them they all lined up and posed as hardcore as they could, sometimes laughing between shots. Surlaw seemed to calm down after awhile and joined in the laughter as he raised his guitar over his head as if to smash it or bared his teeth at the cameras.

He was feeling better until he saw her watching the other man.

Bastian was crouching low to the ground on all fours, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and his back arched like some strange, leather-clad cat. Elly was obviously turned on - he knew that look in her eye and he didn't like seeing it on her face while she watched the bassist. Her chest heaved lightly with her quickening breath and she was barely smiling, lips quirked at the corners. That turned out to be the last pose they wanted, though, so they were allowed to clean up, dress down and head back to the studios. Elly leaned heavily on her boyfriend the whole while and Surlaw's face grew darker and darker as the unrepentant bastard stroked her arm. When they reached their studio and had been let in by the smiling guards in the front office Julian rubbed a hand over his clean face and announced he wanted to "get his face fixed" again. He went one way, down the hall to Chastity's room while the rest of the band sat down in the common area.

"No more magazine spreads for awhile," Elly groaned dramatically, wobbling towards the middle of the room where the chairs and couch were set up. Bastian rolled his eyes and snatched her up into his arms in a single smooth sweep. "Bast..."

"I'm sitting, I'm sitting." He leaned back into the leather like chair he'd bought for the room and settled her on his lap like usual. Surlaw had already thrown himself on the sofa and he sat with his hat pulled down over his eyes, thick-soled boots up on the table before them. The big man was so quiet that they both were uneasy until a thick snore rolled out from under the battered fedora.

"How can he fall asleep so fast?" Julian had wandered back in. His face was painted in his usual messy white, makeup smeared green across the mouth as if he'd eaten something glowing and quite possibly radioactive.

"Practice," Surlaw grunted. He raised his head, eyes shadowed by his hat and the dark glasses he wore.

"You feel better?" Elly ventured softly, and everyone was surprised when he slammed his feet to the floor with a loud crash.

"No," he spat, "I do not 'feel better'."

"What's wrong?" Bastian kept a straight face. He knew what was bothering the guitarist but didn't want to bring it up. Unfortunately, it looked like Surlaw's temper was going to break again today. His arms tightened around Elly, body tensing.

"The hell?" Julian yelped and climbed up the back of the sofa in alarm.

"Now what..?" Elly sounded confused and he loved her for her naiveté but it really wasn't the time. As the big man suddenly lunged Bastian rolled off the chair, his body hunched protectively over her in a manner eerily reminiscent of the previous attack on her life. The guitarist was snarling behind them in inarticulate fury as he got up and rushed her to the door. He turned then, and saw that the quick movement had ripped the hat from his head. Surlaw slowly stood straight and tore his lavender-tinted sunglasses off as well.

"Going to try and stand up like a man?" Bastian stared at the guitarist as Surlaw spoke. Without his hat and shades he looked like the nickname she'd given him - a freakish parody of some rock band werewolf. He shook his head and backed away further, setting Elly down behind him and closer to the door.

"You're not a man right now," he said firmly, his mouth set in a disapproving line. His cool gaze was infuriating Surlaw, who only wanted to set things straight between them at last. Bastian flicked a glance behind him and saw Julian had circled around behind their problem, arms held out. The drummer's green eyes were narrowed and his own mouth drawn down in anger.

"I don't want your pity." Surlaw spat, literally. Elly blinked at that and tucked a wayward strand of her hair back, trying to think.

"What the hell," she said quietly. "You're not like this. Let's fix it."

"You can't fix anything." He bit the words off, snapping them short and edging towards them. "All I want to do is take my ..." He trailed off. "Fists to that asshole," he finished and she was sure that wasn't what he'd meant to say.

"For what?" To everyone's surprise Elly pushed past Bastian, who choked and held a hand out towards her. She walked directly up to Surlaw, purple hair flipping in the breeze her haste generated, and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Saving my damned life? Or being the man I'm in love with?"

"He..." His face paled, red patches standing clearly out on his cheeks. Elly stood staring up at him, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Quickly, quickly," she snapped, shoving him backwards with a gentle push towards the waiting Julian. "I've had it with this bullshit." Elly bit her lip to avoid crying when she saw the helpless look on his face. She still loved this man: yes, it was a different love but love nonetheless and she still didn't know why he had rejected her so cruelly. She'd thought he was going to be the one for her, forever. She remembered the days when Robin was with them, back when they still had the crappy old tour bus that smelled like feet. How they'd come together because of a stupid bump in the road and how he'd kissed her, grinning in his "aw, shucks" way. Her heart didn't feel like breaking, it felt like it was ...warped, more than anything. But he'd been the one that pushed their time line onto a different path. It wasn't her fault, she reminded herself firmly.

"Fuck you," he gasped. Surlaw's face was blotchy with color, his cheeks, forehead and neck an unnatural red that made him look as if he had the flu or some deadlier, more serious sickness. His eyes, which had been a bright, snapping emerald green dulled slowly as he stared at her. Even the paisley on his jacket seemed more subdued, which of course was ridiculous but Elly would swear to herself it had looked that way later.

"No, man, fuck you," Julian said, slapping his arm. "You keep messing us all up, you need to go on a vacation or something."

"You think it would help?" Elly jumped as Bastian came up from behind her and stepped close against her back. His pale blue eyes were filled with anxiety, and Julian felt bad for his friend. For a second there he had been sure Surlaw was going to throw a punch at the singer instead of her lover.

"I don't care." Surlaw thrust himself from the circle of attention to stomp down the hall. The rest of the band watched mutely, staring at the door long after he was gone. Bastian pulled Elly very close to him to control the trembling he felt in her body.

Julian beat a restless tattoo on the wall closest to him. "What do we do, guys?" He blurted out at last. Elly didn't answer, only burrowed deeper into Bastian's leather trench coat to press her face on his chest. He felt wetness there and sighed.

"We're going home for now," he said tiredly. "Let's think about it. You get any ideas, call us, all right?"

The rest of the day was difficult for them. Julian didn't call and they hadn't discussed the incident since neither one could think of anything good to say.

Surlaw had become so different than the man she'd always known. Sure, he'd always had anger issues, but this! She'd have been afraid of him if she hadn't been so thoroughly pissed off. If it had just been a personal thing on the side, someone she used to date from school or something, she could shrug it off. But the fact remained that it was a member of the band and that made things more serious.

It was her family, her everything.

Like an instrument, Zero had to function together to work. Since Surlaw couldn't get rid of his emotions in a healthy way there was no telling what would happen to them all. Elly was edgy the whole day until night time. After the stars had come out she jumped into bed with a desperation Bastian found particularly sad. Sleep wouldn't fix things, he was sure of it.

He was right.

They'd snuggled up together in their usual position and she had indeed dropped off due to the fact that he was there beside her. He was warm and smelled good like he always did at night of fresh soap after his quick shower. The warm shower had done its usual job on him and he was just falling asleep himself when he felt her shaking. Elly was whimpering, her hands clutching aimlessly on his chest, at his arm. He shook himself awake and held her tight. Her shoulders sagged a little but she did lift her head to look up at him. When she did he noticed that her eyes were so deeply purple they looked black in the dim light of the sliver of moon outside.

"Shh, baby, I'm here." He sighed and cupped a hand to the back of her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. "Today?" It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway.

"I'm worried about everything, Bast!"

"You didn't know, did you. The whole time."

"No." The muffled whisper nearly broke his heart. He held her a little tighter, stroking her back lightly.

"S'all right," he said. "You don't talk about your past but family is important to you." She didn't speak but he felt her body flinch wildly. "And our family's falling apart, seems like."

"I feel like a prostitute or something," she ventured tremulously. "Am I really going to be the dumb woman everyone talks about that breaks a band up, Bastian?"

"Why are you a prostitute?" He sounded angry and she shrugged, still not looking up. If she had seen him she would have been astonished. His light blue eyes were steely with resolve, lines furrowing his pale brow and spots of color on his cheeks. "Has anyone said that to you?" She shook her head and the lines dissolved, gaze softening.

"No, no one's ever told me that right out."

"Then put it out of your head. You're nothing like that."

"But..."

"You dated him and me, yeah, big deal." He tossed his hair from his forehead. "That's all. You're not a dumb woman and you're not a whore. So don't say that, don't even think it. Okay?"

"I still feel like an ass. This is so damned stupid. It feels like a badly written fanfic."

"I've read some of those by accident." He chuckled. "Don't Google 'Mister Zero story' - you'll regret it." Bastian looked seriously at her when his comment didn't elicit a response. Judging by her expression and the tears still running down her face he saw a light joke wasn't going to help this time. He sat up against the head board, drawing her all the way into his arms, her legs over the one side as he cradled her. "It's all right, I can fix it."

"How?" She hid her face in her hands.

"I don't know. But I will because I won't let you hurt like this." He shifted her in his arms and began to rock her gently. "Shh, baby, please relax. I promise I'll make everything better." She was sobbing harder now so he licked his lips and raised his head, drawing in air to sing. His light voice soothed her like nothing else did, penetrating past her own sorrow. He sang of love, of course, and taking her in his arms, holding her, being there for her...

"Bastian," she hiccuped suddenly through her soft sniffling.

"Mmmnnn?"

"Are you singing an NSync song?!" He coughed, embarrassed. He was rewarded by her sudden, almost childish giggle. She clapped her hands over her mouth, struggling not to let the other emotion burst out of her. Hysteria wasn't a good thing but she felt like she wanted to shriek laughter at his sheepish expression. She settled for kicking her legs aimlessly at the air instead. The breeze her motions generated was enough to stir the tissues at the bedside table faintly.

"Yeah, okay, knock it off," he mumbled, pouting as she continued to muffle laughter into her fist. He raised one thin eyebrow and bent to kiss her on the cheek. "Everything always works itself out, right? Look at us. And besides, we don't have to record everything together all the time. We can do it the new way and have it mixed together electronically for a while 'til he cools off."

"I guess."

Bastian nestled his head on top of her lavender hair and closed his eyes. Something had happened to his baby a long time ago, he thought. Something to stop her from growing all the way up. She needed someone to protect her, care for her and make sure she didn't get hurt. He'd wholeheartedly volunteered and he was staying firm in that decision now. The same thing had happened to them all - maybe it was due to their profession, he mused. He knew his own emotions ran rampant and she seemed to be no exception. And Surlaw was throwing temper tantrums while Julian wavered between wanting to punch the big guy and help him in the next breath.

Her regular breathing told him that she'd fallen asleep again. Bastian took a deep breath and wriggled down until he was resting his arms and back more comfortably. He'd have a terrible case of pins and needles in the morning but he wouldn't wake her for all the money in the world right now.

The Audrey cluster was looking slightly discolored today and that worried him. The usual bright green and rose color of the pitcher plant was a sickly yellow - not right at all. Bastian frowned and checked the moisture in the terrarium, the temperature and then realized the mesh on one side of the top was loose.

"Ah, crap," he muttered. A larger insect than the ones that filtered in through the netting at the top had gotten in. He scratched absently at his bare chest, pushing the necklace he wore aside.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I think one of the Audreys is dying." He pointed at it, peering into the trap of the plant. Sure enough, a larger fly was inside and the plant couldn't dissolve it fast enough.

"Aw, no way." Elly came up behind him and sighed disconsolately. "Those are one of my favorites. They're so pretty."

"Yeah, I know." Bastian made a face as he thought things over. "I don't think it'll matter if I take the remains out, but I'll try." He quickly tweezered the larger section of the bug and discarded it in the mossy undergrowth.

"How did you learn so much about these, anyway?" She was rubbing a towel around her head to dry her hair, one wrapped around her middle as well. The young man turned to her after carefully fixing the top of the terrarium.

"Books, online stuff. I killed a lot at first, and I always felt like shit for wanting to keep trying. It was like, 'what can I kill next?'" He stepped up to her and quickly bent, nipping her damp neck. "Mnn, you finished in the bathroom?"

"You can shower," she grinned. "I just need to mess around with my hair." She wriggled in his arms as he reached out and clasped her to him.

"I wanna mess with your hair."

"What's that even mean?" She laughed.

"We don't have to go in today," he murmured in her ear. "Now, get back in that bathroom and you can help me wash my back..." Elly started giggling but couldn't fend him off as he butted lightly against her, pushing her back to the steamy room. She wasn't really trying, of course.

"Why aren't we?"

"Going in?" Bastian yawned, stretched briefly and then yanked down his boxers. He tossed the silk into the laundry bin and shrugged. "I called Julie and told him we probably needed a day to think things over - all of us. That way we can maybe think of what to do with... you know."

"Did he hear from Surlaw?" She paused in the act of slipping the towel off her nude body and he shook his head.

"Damn it," she muttered.

"I don't think he's going to make it easy for any of us." He shrugged and ran the water, putting a careful hand in until it turned just warm enough. "For now, I just need those scrubbing hands of yours," he added in a sly tone, winking at her.

"What do I get if I wash your back, handsome?" She ran a hand over his shoulder blades and he shivered.

"Um. Anything you want."

"Anything?"

"I mean it." His grin grew broader.

"I'm just teasing, you know that." Elly ran a hand through her hair and nudged him. "Get in, you know I love sudsing you up." The pale young man almost leaped into the tub and she laughed. His penis was unabashedly erect when she joined him but he only he reached out to touch her face with a caressing palm.

"Everything's been so tense lately," he said softly amid the rushing water of the shower head. "Let's try and make a nice buffer for the crap we have to deal with later?"

"Interesting concept," she murmured, stepping close and sliding her hands around his waist. He nodded, sighed and reached for the soap. It didn't take that long for him to clean himself even with pausing for kisses and long, drawn-out caresses under the hissing water that poured down over both of them. He finally rolled his shoulders back and handed her the fragrant bar. It was a kind of ritual for them that Elly insisted on now and then. Her hands quickly worked the soap into a lather and she turned him gently about so she could rub his back.

"Oh that feels good," he muttered thickly as she worked her hands into his shoulder muscles, kneading as she went. Once she'd taken a soft washcloth and rinsed him she was nearly done. But there was one thing she had to do and Bastian didn't move - he knew they weren't finished yet. She laid her cheek on his back while she traced the ragged scar that twisted down his left side to his upper waist. When her fingers had explored every rough bit of skin from the wound he'd gotten protecting her she sighed tremulously.

"I have something for you, honey," she whispered, slipping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. He placed his hands over hers and squeezed lightly back, his lower lip trembling. She rarely used cute names for him.

"Call me that again and I won't be able to stand up..."

"Honey?"

"That," he said weakly with a grin she didn't see. He turned around, shaking the water out of his white bangs and then shoving them off his forehead with a grimace. No matter what he did they'd create a tiny waterfall that poured down his face and annoyed him while he was bathing. Elly reached up and stroked his soaking wet black hair after he did, twining her fingers in the bangs and letting them flop back down.

"Hey," he protested softly.

"No peeking, sweetheart," she breathed in such a way that his throat locked up. A small puff of air is all that left his lips, a low trembling whine as her tongue slid over the throbbing pulse in his neck. He couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think through the dreamy haze of pleasure she was installing in him. Bastian tried to touch her once but she shook her head and guided his hand away.

He whined again.

"Shh," she soothed, lips trailing down his chest. He couldn't really see through the water and the hair on the one side of his face. The effect was electrifying. And besides, the soft touches were lower now, a dip into his navel, her hands encircling his upper thighs. Elly stroked the light dusting of hair on them for a moment and he was sure she was finished; that she would slide back up and he'd make love to her like they almost always did after such play. There was a pause and her hands crept up to his stiff erection. Bastian blinked. If she wanted to stroke him off he'd be more than happy to let her. It was just that she didn't do it very often, and...

"Elly!" He shouted her name in shock at the light, flickering touch on his member. His abdomen violently contracted with pleasure, his mouth open, chest heaving. Water slipped down the writhing feather tattoos as he struggled to stay as still as possible.

"Is this all right?" She asked quietly from below. Bastian's mind worked feverishly at an answer. It wasn't that he didn't know what to respond, it was that he was still bubbling over with excitement from her soft licking.

"Yes, yes!" He gasped roughly, flexing his legs to try and get some of the nervous spasms out of his belly. "God, yes!" The warmth he was engulfed in at his cries was almost unbearable. Tears came to Bastian's eyes and he grit his teeth, breath hissing out in a long rush. He knew he had a problem with coming too soon but he couldn't help it, he tried so hard but it felt so good!

"You're gonna get," he whimpered, "I'm..."

"I know," she panted, his member popping free of her mouth for a moment. "It's okay, do it."

"Wh- wha...!" His blue eyes widened and he gasped. No one had ever wanted to finish him this way. There had been one accident, yeah, and the gagging and disgusted face of his then-lover had taken most of the joy from the experience. He was partially afraid but couldn't stop his body's reaction even if he wanted to. She kissed the tip and then plunged on, wrapping him in heat again, hotter than when they made love. They were doubly careful during sex ever since their first time. Bastian had never complained about wearing a condom but it did take the sensation down several kicks. He braced himself on the bath mat and placed a gentle hand on the back of her head. All right. Least he could do was warn her, his spasming hand should be enough of a hint that he was coming if he didn't scream in ecstasy first. He stopped frowning in concern and began moaning again, hand clutching her hair as she drew back and sucked delicately on his throbbing head. The sensitivity there hurt but he liked it, he craved it. When she made as if to move lower again he begged her not to.

"There, just like that. S -" He bit his lip but she stroked his thigh encouragingly. "Su- suck the tip," he gasped. "Soft, soft, oh my god, baby, I... ahhh!" His conclusion was nothing less than blinding. He squeezed his eyes shut so tight he saw spots, his toes curling wildly on the solid rubber mat beneath and his hand gently urging her to accept his flow of seed. "My baby," he sighed when he could speak.

"Wow."

"Oh, yeah wow." He shuddered and sniffed once. "Where did you - how did you know to do that?"

"Luck?" Elly winked at him, imitating his previous gesture when he'd climbed into the tub in the first place. He moved forward to kiss her and she blinked. "Sweetie, I just..."

"I know what you did." He nuzzled her lips with his tongue and she gulped and let him enter her mouth to kiss her deeply. Bastian rumbled low in his throat when he tasted the faint remnants of what had been in her mouth moments before. He glanced down at the water swirling down the drain and raised an eyebrow at her. Elly ducked her head, blushing. "Oh, double wow." He shivered. "It wasn't disgusting?"

"Why?"

"I, well." He shrugged. "No one never wanted to do that all the way, and the one time it happened..." He made a face, wrinkling his nose.

"Bad?"

"Worse," he chuckled. "The guy slapped the shit out of me." Her eyes widened, the blush deepened. Bastian had been letting the water run down his body, relaxed to the point of not paying attention. He'd been staring past her at the tiled wall but glanced back in time to catch her expression. "I told you I'd been with guys, too. Never hid that."

"I know, it just - it's sort of, eh."

"Good? Bad?" He hugged her briefly. "Don't think I'll be upset if you say 'exciting'," he added.

"I guess kind of sexy. But I still get jealous." She rolled her eyes.

"That was then. This - you -- are forever." He poked her lightly on her left side above her heart with a fingertip. "Hmm, I think we're done here for now. Do you want..?"

"You can dry me off when we get out," she replied with a twinkle in her purple eyes.

A day or two off had been nice, but they did eventually have to go back to work. When they did, they rarely saw Surlaw; it was normally just Julian sitting by himself in the room, twirling his sticks aimlessly.

"Practice time." Julian made a face. He wasn't wearing makeup today and he looked so much older without the white paint and green smeared across his lips. "If he's not gonna be around we can at least do that."

"Yeah, so let's do this one." Bastian lifted his guitar and grinned at his friend.

"You're a hopeless romantic dweeb. This is another sappy one, isn't it." He glanced at the music. "Aw, dammit Bastian! There's like, nothing for me to do here."

"Do this and I promise to give you a more challenging one for drums later?"

"Yeah yeah." Julian grumbled faintly as he settled down onto his stool. He tapped faintly at the hi-hat, getting some air inside and hissing the shining brass softly. "I'll improvise so I don't get bored."

Bastian smiled and gently ran his hands across the strings. He bent towards the mic and started to sing, closing his eyes (when the drummer saw this a moment later he shouted "show off", much to his amusement). He sang until he felt a hand close on his shoulder. It was large, far larger than his girl's and he set his jaw as he looked up. Julian faltered to a stop on the drum set, his green eyes growing large as he watched the potentially dangerous scene unfold before him.

Surlaw was unshaven and wearing only the simplest of outfits, a t-shirt and flared jeans with no sunglasses. His hat seemed dented on one side more than usual but that could have been his imagination. Bastian braced himself and spoke calmly.

"You back?"

"I want to talk with you." His low voice was touched with the hint of a growl. Not menacing, just thrumming with negative energy that might turn violent. The bassist set his guitar aside and spread his hands.

"Go ahead."

"Uh, I can leave if you want," Julian stammered uneasily. Both ignored him for the moment and then he saw Surlaw's hand wave a little.

"If you want," he said simply. Julian did want, more than ever. He also wanted to tell Elly not to interrupt if she was done in Chas' room. He rushed off down the hall, sneakers pelting softly.

"All right," Bastian cleared his throat. His fingers curled around the sliver he wore around his neck. "What do you want to talk about?" Surlaw raised his bushy brown eyebrows and scraped a chair close to the other man's side. His emerald-green eyes were penetrating as he stared at him bleakly.

"You know what." He took his hat off and scratched at the messy hair underneath, sighing angrily. "I made a mistake. I want her back."

"No," Bastian grated, surprising even himself at the fury in his own voice. Surlaw straightened in his chair a little, eyeing him in a new light. "You can't just have her back like some crappy thing I borrowed from you for awhile. She doesn't want to, anyway. That's your problem. You never thought of what she wanted, treated her like she needed to be treated." His fist had tightened so hard around the silvered pendant that he would later find a thin bruise running across his palm.

"Doesn't want to?"

"Damn it." Bastian forced himself not to cry, knowing the other man would see it as a weakness - more, that he'd berate him for it. He locked the tears in his chest and found new insight on Surlaw himself. When he checked the tears, anger had started to come through instead. "I know what you're going through. But she's made her own decisions, you have to see that."

"I can get her back," the older man insisted stubbornly.

"You can't." Bastian thrust his jaw out and shook a trembling fist at him. "You know you can't - I see it! Don't fuck with me."

"Why not?" The words rushed out of Surlaw now. "You fuck her." He spat the last out bitterly. Bastian jumped up out of his chair, his cheeks bright red with anger.

"Remember the first time I met the band? You said 'gentlemen' didn't use those words. I see you were right." He wasn't really expecting it when it happened and so he got the worst of the blow. Surlaw's fist connected with the pale young man's lower belly, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to stumble and knock a music stand over with a loud crash.

"You son of a bitch," Bastian wheezed, his eyes tearing as he struggled to regain his breath. "You wanna fight, is that it? Will it make you fucking feel better?" Surlaw raised his chin. He sent his hat sailing across the room with a practiced flick of his hand and nodded once, curtly.

"The sound room."

"First one." The first sound room was bigger, as well as the fact that no one would be able to hear them with the door closed. The bigger man walked out without another word. Bastian rubbed the side of his face reflectively, closing his eyes. He hoped this was a good idea. He hoped neither one of them would get seriously hurt. Bastian set himself and walked purposefully out the room, following Surlaw's broad-shouldered back.

"WHAT?!" Elly would have leaped from the chair she was sitting in but Julian and Chastity held her back. "Let me go, guys, they'll obliterate each other!"

"I think it's what Surlaw had in mind, yeah." Julian pressed gently down on her shoulders, restraining her.

"But!"

"Maybe it's what he needs," Chas mused. "Surlaw, I mean."

"It's not what Bast needs!" Her eyes were pale with terror. "And Surlaw doesn't understand, he thinks he's weak - they'll both get hurt."

"You know I'm a Bastian fan," the blond woman said, rolling her eyes dramatically, "but this bullshit has been going on for long enough. If the big ass wants to fight your man, he'll respect him more for getting a few hits in."

"You're all insane, this isn't grade school!" She lunged forward but Julian caught her and held her fast. "Please, Julie, I'm so afraid."

"I know," he grunted roughly. "Get a grip, girl. You're gonna have to be strong when they finish up." Chastity glanced curiously at the drummer and saw his eyes were moist. He held Elly until she sagged hopelessly in his arms.

"No jokes?"

"Not this time." He shrugged. "Nothing to kid about. You gotta roll with some of this shit, is all." He was thinking of his sister for some strange reason.

"With the punches," Elly snipped angrily.

"Yeah."

Surlaw got to the room first and he even went so far as to strip his shirt off, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his arm muscles briefly. He thought this would be an easy matter to knock the sniveling poof down and show her what he really was made of on the inside. He knew he was brave in a pinch but an actual fight was different than just taking a hit from someone. The door opened and he walked in with his head up and no fear in his pale blue eyes. Surlaw grunted.

"Ready?"

"In a minute." Bastian also removed his shirt. The men hadn't really looked at each other before but when he tossed the silk thing away Surlaw noticed rounded lumps of muscle in his abdomen. He blinked. The muscle rippled when he walked, and though his arms were skinny they didn't flap or sag. His eyes narrowed as he also unhooked the catch of his necklace and placed it more carefully aside on a table near the door. "Is it clear enough in here?"

"It's fine." They always stacked the chairs and anything along one wall when they were finished. It was a nice, empty, sound-blocking room and it was perfect. The younger man dropped into a crouch with his hands held out. Surlaw snorted and closed in on him. His screams, he thought, as his fist connected with the bassist's face would be more than satisfying. He also imagined them as girlish, effeminate.

He was startled to find that his hand sailed through the empty air and didn't strike. More startled when a foot was planted firmly on his chest, snapping into place and shoving him backwards.

"The fuck!"

"You think I'm a loser," Bastian snarled. His eyes were glittering like icy shards of ice, cold as his voice as he spoke. "You did from day fucking one. Surprise!" He dropped again to one hand and Surlaw barely dodged the next kick, aimed at his face this time. He grabbed out and caught the offending leg, jerked with all his strength to pull him off balance. Bastian swore as he was yanked to the side and he brought his arms up to try and push free.

"Big mistake," Surlaw snickered. He dropped Bastian's leg and sent him spinning across the floor to crash into the nearest wall. The sound was unbelievably satisfying but not as much as the grunt of pain the hated man expelled. The bigger man was on top of him before he could clear his head, fists slamming into the side of his face, his chest, his stomach.

Oh goddamn that hurts! He huddled over, grabbing at his eye despite the laughter of the other man. He hadn't wanted to use his hands but now he lashed out blindly, using that mocking laughter as a point to hone in. Surlaw shrugged the blow off and kicked at Bastian's groin, grimly hoping for enough damage that the little punk wouldn't be able to enjoy sex for awhile. But he rolled away and it struck his thigh instead.

"You're going to play that dirty?"

"Why not? Isn't that what this is all about?" He paused while Bastian got up, panting and spitting blood. "Why didn't you just go after that blond makeup artist? She wanted you."

"Chas?" Bastian frowned. "I don't like her, what's that got to do with it? This isn't about me taking what was yours because I wanted to get my dick wet," he hissed. He had the satisfaction of seeing the other's face blanch at his choice of words. "I love her, you ass! I want what's best for her."

"And that's you."

"Is it you?" He raised a hand to his face, massaged his swollen cheek. "That's not the point, man. Why don't you just tell her if you're so sure she'll come back to you?" Surlaw froze. He stared hard at the other man, sure this was some sort of trick.

"You're not going to step aside for me, are you?"

"No matter how hard you pound on me - or me on you, for that fucking matter. No."

"But you'll let me try and take her from you?"

"I'm not afraid," Bastian sighed wearily. "Talk to her if you want. Maybe it'll help. If I hear you've hurt her, though, I promise I won't hold back next time."

"You were holding back?" Surlaw chuckled dryly as he brushed past the pale young man and stepped out the door. He wouldn't have admitted that his chest felt like there was a hole in it from that neatly-placed kick for all the world.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Bastian said grimly.

To say that Elly was not amused at the fight would be an understatement. She refused to even look at Surlaw and insisted on driving Bastian to the doctor's and then straight home. She was in full voice the whole time, drawing on her vocal talent to fill her chest with air and gradually rise from a husked whisper to a full-chested roar. Bastian had never seen her that angry and he hoped he never did again. He accepted all her attentions as meekly as possible, letting her dab gently at his face with a cool cloth while they sat waiting to be seen at the doctor's. He accepted the anti-inflammatory pills he'd been given there from her without comment, trying not to wince as he swallowed. He drew the line when she started to cry, however.

"All right, that's enough." He wrapped an arm around her and quailed at the pain in his side as he did so. His ribs were as many colors as a peacock's feathers - he bruised easily -- and they hurt if he even moved the tiniest bit. He ignored this and hugged her tightly.

"And you! You went along with this? He beat you up and you went along with this?"

"I didn't expect him to whale on me when I was down." He coughed apologetically.

"Didn't you fight back?"

"I held back." Bastian's smile turned a bit grim. "I gave the bastard a good hard kick in the guts, though." He groaned when she swore. "Baby, don't say that."

"I'm going to give that man a piece of my mind," she hissed, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I think he wants to talk to you anyway."

"Why?"

"Ah..." Bastian eyed her apprehensively. "I don't think I should be the one to tell you."

"Bastian Libache!"

"Now you're mad at me," he said regretfully.

"No," she groaned. "No, I'm not." Elly ran her slender hand along his side and watched him for a reaction. And like she'd expected - he twitched violently. She reached over and gently brushed back his bangs so she could view the other bad injury. His eye was purpled all around the socket, the skin puffy. It was squeezed partially shut as well. The pale woman sighed, then got up and moved to his other side to snuggle. He curled a grateful arm about her.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"No one does this to you without answering for it." She was still muttering angrily although he'd began stroking her arm and his touch soothed her like always. Her tense body began a slow relax, especially when he bent and began kissing her cheek, the side of her neck, whatever he could reach comfortably.

"Be careful with him," he warned as he nibbled on her ear.

"He hurt you." She kept coming back to that again and again. Now she just sounded confused. "I don't want you hurt, Bastian. Especially over something so stupid."

"He wants to break us up," he told her gently, feeling felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't promised not to tell but he knew Surlaw wouldn't want him talking to her about it. "He wants you back, baby. He told me as much."

"No, he doesn't," she said. "He wants something you took from him." Bastian frowned at her flat tone and shook her a little, kissing the top of her head and relaxing as he inhaled her sleepy lavender scent.

"I also told him to try talking to you, sweetheart." He smiled at her when she looked up, startled. "Yeah, I did. Because I know you love me. But I'm not letting you go in there alone. I don't trust him yet." His grip tightened around her and he bit his lip, snuggling her close to the good side of his chest.

"Bast."

"I promised no one would ever hurt you again, didn't I?"

"I know, hon." She grinned as he puffed out a purple lock of hair that had gotten sucked into his mouth. "Are you hungry?" She glanced up and saw with some surprise that the clock had struck three and neither one of them had eaten lunch.

"Now that you mention it, sort of." He started to get up and she pushed carefully on his chest, shoving him back down.

"Fool! You're hurt. I'll make something."

"Aw, baby, you don't have to... it's my turn, isn't it?"

"I can butcher food without your help, Bastian love." Elly reached the kitchen and opened the fridge, staring hopelessly inside.

"Oh, that's nice." He closed his eyes, smiling wistfully. "You've called me more cute little names today than you ever had, you realize that?"

"Have I?" Both of them were pretty inept cooks but they shared the chore day in and about. She knew she made a decent breakfast so she poked around until she found what she needed for a giant omelet. Gathering up eggs and various leftover bits of ham and other things she banged the door closed with her hip as she carried everything over to the counter.

"You've called me 'love', 'darling', and 'sweetheart'," he mused in a dreamy tone. When she looked over he had pulled his boots off and stretched his legs out on the couch, laying the long way with his arms behind his neck. He shifted slightly and winced, then frowned as if angry he couldn't do what he wanted.

"Well, aren't you?"

"That's even nicer," he breathed softly.

"I do love you, you know. I just never said things like that too much, so it's taking me awhile to get used to opening up. You're sort of wearing off on me, I think." She cracked the eggs and swore as the last one dropped a piece of shell in the bowl.

"I've heard living together does that."

"Uh huh." She took one of the scarves she usually wore on her arm and tied it around her hair so her side locks wouldn't fall down when she was cooking. Bastian smiled, aching but happy. He was so tired from the events of the day that he fell asleep while she finished making the eggs and toasting some bread to go along with them. Elly walked over to where he lay and watched him for a time, the hint of a smile touching her lips. She didn't want to wake him, so she covered a plate for him and set it in the microwave to stay warm. He was right; living with him had changed her slightly. She didn't want to be without him anymore. Her anger today had stemmed mostly from the fear that he would be injured and taken from her, somehow, whether it be the hospital or worse. Of course she didn't think Surlaw would have meant to hurt him that bad but accidents happened when people did stupid things.

Elly sighed deeply and stared at her plate of omelet. She wasn't really hungry now.

She knew his side was mottled with bruises and his eye was partially closed due to the beating he'd took but after a day of rest he was acting fine. His hands closed around her waist and Bastian hummed softly, kissing the sensitive side of her neck. She felt the gentle bump of his arousal below and blinked.

"You - you're stiff and sore, you can't possibly..."

"Stiff, yes." He chuckled when she snorted in exasperation. "Sore? Never too sore to love my baby."

"Bastian, there's no way sex won't hurt with all those bruises."

"Mnn?" He sucked delicately on her earlobe, causing her to shudder. "I'm sorry, baby, this may seem a little selfish, but, ah." He stopped, kissed her a few times to try and cover his confusion.

"Out with it, then." She turned in his arms and he was filled with a sense of wonder again at her radiant beauty when she smiled at him that way. His girl was pretty, yes, but she had a special kind of smile she reserved just for him that took his breath away. He'd tried to describe it to Julian but the drummer had just shrugged and said "Yeah, because she's yours - of course she's 'the best'."

"I don't want to hold back just because it might hurt a little. He wanted it that way." A slow, brick-like flush was creeping up his neck as he spoke but he continued on in a rush. "I can see him sitting there tonight gloating because I can't make love to you."

"But you can't."

"Of course I can." He slipped out of his loose shirt and let it fall to the floor. The bruises stood out vividly on his pale skin and she reached out a hand towards them as if she could erase them with a touch. Bastian sighed and stretched his arms slowly over his head, testing for catches or kinks. His abdomen rippled and he bit his lip, but laughed softly when she squeaked with concern.

"You hurt," she groaned. "Do you have to do it just to prove something?" He cocked his head, his expression puzzled as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"I'm not doing it just because of that." He bent and kissed her forehead, grinning when she made a move as if to reach his lips. "I'll admit I'm a stubborn fool and it's one of the reasons. But you took care of me all day, you called me all those sweet names..." He trailed off, his light blue eyes distant.

"You're not making this easy," she pouted. His warm hands were gently roaming over her back. He slid lower and squeezed her rear gently, causing her to jump closer to him. "Bast!"

"Don't fight it, then," he murmured, taking her hand. "Let's go in the bedroom."

"I - I just don't want to touch that bruise by accident, or, you know?" She shivered and he knew she only needed a small nudge to get her to agree. He also knew just what nudged her the best. He bent and whispered in her ear.

"You won't hurt me. Let me rock you sweet and gentle, baby, make soft love to you until you're satisfied..."

Moments later she was undressing in the bedroom they now shared, casting only slightly worried looks at him as he shed his boxers. Bastian was rooting around in the beside table's solitary drawer for a condom so he'd be ready when the moment came. He grunted lowly with irritation when he saw they had only three left.

"What's wrong?"

"We're almost out."

"That's partially my fault," she laughed as she slipped into bed. The silky blue sheets were cool and felt delicious against her naked skin. "I'm so worried about accidentally getting pregnant now that the pill's not enough." Bastian made a dismissive noise as he joined her on the bed.

"I keep forgetting to pick them up, it doesn't help. Mmm, what's this?" His shoulders surged as he leaned over her body, covering her chest with kisses.

"Those are called 'breasts'," she giggled sarcastically, then squealed when his teeth closed gently on a nipple. "Oh, honey!"

"Baby," he breathed, lapping and sucking. He worked on her sensitive chest for awhile until she had almost completely forgotten his injuries. Almost, that is. Her hands would reach for him, then jerk back when she thought of his tender flesh. He sighed and backed away at last, carefully brushing some of the hair from his swollen eye. "Is it okay...?"

"Yes, yes." Elly gasped, gulped air and grimaced at the bop the swallow made in her throat. "Just kiss me before you put it on, okay?" She slipped her arms around his neck, tugging eagerly. Their mouths met and he husked his love for her through their kisses. She answered him back just as passionately, whispering during the little breaks they took for breathing.

"Let me dress up." She giggled again and he smiled. Bastian carefully tore the packet and fumbled as he always did with the slippery condom. He managed to sheath his impatient manhood at last and took a deep breath. "I'll have to go extra slow, baby," he said.

"Don't hurt yourself."

"I could never hurt myself when I'm loving you."

She was sitting on the edge of the spa, cooled for the summer and used as a relaxing pool of sorts. Their condo was quite spacious and the outside patio was gloriously landscaped inside the stucco privacy wall. Roses of several varieties and neatly-trimmed bushes lined the far side. She'd thought time and again that they would certainly move if they ever took their relationship up a notch. Where else was there to go but marriage, though? Nervous excitement fluttered in her belly whenever she thought about it so she always squashed those daydreams as fast as they started

Better to be pessimistic, oh, and speaking of that...

"All right, we have to talk about something," Elly murmured.

"What's that, babe?" Bastian raised his head from the book he was reading. He propped it on his pinkening chest and looked inquiringly up at her.

"You need to cover up, for one," she chided gently, getting up and opening the umbrella over the chair he was laying on. "You're already sort of red." His shoulders and the fronts of his thighs were an alarmingly pink shade. The bruises along his side almost seemed to stand out more in the sun and she frowned as she stared at them.

"Oops." He glanced down at himself. "I was caught up in this." He grinned at her. "Good thing I have you to take care of me now, huh?"

"You're like a little boy sometimes," she said, leaning over and kissing him. He lifted his neck and pressed back firmly. "Hmm."

"Do you kiss all 'little' boys like that?" He affected shock and laughed when she slapped him.

"I'm trying to be serious."

"All right." He sat up and put the book aside on a small glass-top table. "Is this about Surlaw, then?"

"I have to talk to him, I think, like he wants. It's probably the only way to avoid more trouble."

"Yeah." Bastian's face fell. This was not a cheery topic. "I don't want you going alone. I won't allow it." Elly's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Won't allow?"

"You know what I mean." He shook his head. "Don't look at me like that, Els. I don't trust him anymore and if anything happened to you, I'd..." He paused, choked a little. "I don't know what I'd do."

"I'll tell him to meet me someplace. In public."

"Thank you." He was obviously relieved. He tugged on her arm to make her bend down again and kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. Elly's annoyance melted away when she felt his sincerity right through the kiss. He worried about her more than his own safety, always did. Maybe had for longer than she knew.

"You'd better call," he said then, squinting at the stone clock set in the wall on the far side. "He's probably going to sleep all day unless you do."

"Heh." She smiled a little. The band members knew each other so well despite their arguments and problems. Elly dialed Surlaw's number only to get his voice mail. She sighed and left a message telling him she would let him pick the place, to message her back or something and she'd be there. As she hung up she grumbled and sat down on Bastian's lap.

As they chatted the man they'd been discussing tossed and turned in his bed, fists clenching, pulling at the soft cotton sheets. The scents there mocked him; he imagined he still smelled her even after he'd washed them countless times. Even after he'd bought new ones! His gut hurt, his heart ached and he was not happy. Worse yet he heard his phone ringing. Snarling under his breath he rolled off the bed and scrambled for the cell among the clutter on the night stand, causing tissues, keys, beer caps and more to fall to the floor in a series of discordant clashes and thumps.

"Shit!"


	12. Chapter Twelve

There, he'd missed the call. Surlaw picked up the phone and flipped it open to dial his voice mail. He was swearing the whole time under his breath, his voice thick with accent and sprinkled liberally with British witticisms that would have made his mother hit him across the face. He was definitely not going to have a good day today, either. Waking up like this always ruined his mood, plus he hated to oversleep. He dialed shakily and sat up in bed, the sheets rumpled around his half-naked body. His green eyes grew dark as he listened to the message and he clicked the phone closed with one hand when it was done, grinding his teeth together.

The little bastard had told her he wanted to talk to her.

He switched moods rather abruptly when he realized she had decided to give him a chance and had called him, though. After her screaming temper tantrum the other day he thought she'd never want to see him again. True, they hadn't met eye to eye when she'd been yelling, but he heard her berating him for beating up her precious punk boyfriend all the way across the studio.

All right. She wanted to talk with him, he'd have to chill out and give it a go. Surlaw plodded towards the shower. He'd have to look good for this, he knew, and be in control of himself, something he hadn't been for a long time. That meant no booze until after they had talked. The tall man made a face as he stepped into the shower and began lathering himself up. His gut was bigger. And it wasn't "pot belly" cute anymore, he thought it was much bigger than that now.

"Always had this damn thing," he muttered as he ran his fingers through his chops and shook some of the water off himself before grabbing a towel to finish the job. He had to do something special. He called and left a message on her own voice mail telling her where they could meet and got dressed as fast as he could.

He wanted to be there first.

Meanwhile, back at the condo Elly was fretting to her boyfriend.

"I wonder if he'll even call me back or anything." Elly sighed and ran a brisk hand through her hair, itching the scalp beneath. It felt funny now that the dye was out of it (although she knew that was her mind playing tricks on her, she was starting to fuss with it a lot more anyway). The lightly sunburned young man she was sitting on wrapped his arms around her and snorted.

"Are you kidding? You could raise him from the dead with a message like that." He paused, his voice dropping a few notches. "Your hair's all the way back now, isn't it?" Elly paused in the middle of her scratching and blushed with embarrassment. Her hair had been a sore point for years in school when the kids had teased her. She'd started to find gray hairs at sixteen and her original hair color had been completely taken over by them when she was twenty.

"Yep."

"Aw, don't be shy, pretty." He grinned and toyed gently with the spiky top, trailed a hand down her side locks. "It's beautiful despite what you might think. Besides, I'm honored you did it for me."

"It feels wrong for some reason. I've dyed it since it turned gray back then."

"But it's so much softer." He caressed the back of her neck. "If you really can't stand it why don't you get Chas to dye it back tomorrow?"

"Maybe." She smiled. "You liked it so much, though, I just kept putting it off." She suddenly jumped as her cell went off, buzzing beside them on the table. He'd sent a message, which wasn't surprising. Surlaw and Elly hadn't seen each other after the fight and he wouldn't want to talk to her on the phone before he had in person.

"Him?"

"Yeah." She snapped the phone shut and pulled a sour face. "He wants to meet at this really fancy restaurant. I think he's going to finally come out with everything." Elly paused and reached out to grasp Bastian's hand.

"I'll be up waiting for you,sweetheart."

"I think I'll need it."

Although she took care to dress well it didn't take her long to get ready. It was a single hour later when Elly walked nervously into the restaurant and gave the maitre d' her name. She wore a light lavender dress with thin straps that fell to mid-calf and matching flats on her feet. Her hair had been brushed to a shining silver color that matched her earrings and the bracelet Bastian had given her some time ago. The man at the front immediately led her to a small booth along one of the walls and there she saw Surlaw for the first time since the fight. He looked well - better than Bastian, she thought with a light kindling of anger. Her boyfriend had been pommeled mercilessly. Surlaw looked fine, she couldn't even see any bruises on him. She damped down her emotions with a great effort and sat in front of him at the table.

He was looking directly at her, silent, his hands steepled together on the tablecloth. They remained that way for some time until another man came and set up a bucket of champagne. Elly raised an eyebrow and Surlaw merely shrugged. When they were alone again he poured deftly, filling her glass and his only half way. The big man sighed and sipped at the bubbling alcohol.

"It's not bad," he ventured. Then he sighed yet again and set the glass down carefully. His mood was strange. Elly didn't feel frightened, just confused. Still she couldn't trust herself to speak and fidgeted anxiously with the sparkling bracelet on her wrist. "I don't know what to say," he said at last.

"Neither do I."

"Run out of things the other day?" He smiled sardonically at her, a grim little twist of his lips. "I heard everything until you drove off, you know."

"Then you know I think what you did was terrible and I never want something like that to happen again." Surlaw ducked his head. He wasn't wearing his shades or his hat and she could watch him squirm under her gaze; he blinked and rubbed the back of his neck and generally looked upset.

"I made a mistake," he said finally. His voice was hoarse and he didn't raise his eyes to hers.

"I'll say you did." She raised her chin defiantly, remembering the bruises on Bastian's side and his swollen eye.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, luv," he whispered. "Ever."

And suddenly she felt like crying.

He hadn't called her that in so long - since they'd been together. Elly's eyes teared up and she hastily pressed her hand to her lips. He wasn't paying attention so she quickly dabbed at her eyes, reminding herself as she did so that this was the man that had beaten her boyfriend so badly his ribs were all sorts of frightening colors. But she'd been through a lot with Surlaw, too. They'd founded Zero together and had been lovers for many months before the fame had twisted him. Or so she guessed that's what happened. He'd changed in so many little ways right around the time that Bastian had shown up to take Robin's place. And yet she wondered: had it been her that had changed? Had she been interested in the dark-haired bassist from the moment he'd tried to hit on her? She honestly didn't know. But as she watched Surlaw struggle with something she knew was hopeless she felt a wrenching sorrow and she knew Bast was going to have a very soggy shoulder tonight when she got home. She jerked a little when she felt a hesitant touch on her wrist. Her old friend was wordlessly holding a handkerchief out to her.

"Thanks," she gasped. "I'm still angry at you, damn it..." Elly dabbed again at her eyes and sniffed softly. Her hair tickled her cheek and she tucked the right side lock back, noticing how his fingers twitched when she did. He'd resisted the urge to reach out and do it himself and she thought that was a good thing.

"I know." Surlaw paused, made an unobtrusive gesture at the waiter who nodded and went back to the other tables when he saw them deep in conversation. "I made a mistake," he said miserably. "Can I make it better?"

"Which part?" She clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hand. "I want this all to stop, Wolfy. All of it. I'm not coming back to you."

"I love you," he choked and she saw he thought he meant it. Now she did cry, pressing the wisp of cloth to her eyes and trying to keep her sobs in check. He reached out for her other hand but she shook her head.

"I don't love you the same way anymore." His shoulders sagged when he heard that but he straightened up a moment later, green eyes blazing.

"You really want him, don't you?" He picked up his glass and swirled it, staring at the bubbles. "I can't compete."

"It's not a competition, you know. A competition means you have a chance." She reached out and took his hand to take the sting from her words. "I can't be sorry that I love him. But I don't want you to be angry at me, or him, or yourself anymore."

"That'll take awhile." He rubbed at his furry sideburns reflectively. "He takes good care of you, though? Everything you want?" She nodded mutely.

"I guess since I had my go at him and you I can't complain anymore." Surlaw held up his glass, his eyes dull as his voice. "We've got the whole dinner to talk things through, I guess. If you can help me not be an arsehole about this, more power to you." He drained his glass and beckoned the waiter over.

By the end of the meal she still wasn't sure what was going on or if he was going to stop thinking he might have a chance to win her back. But he did promise to stop taking things out on the man she was with now.

At least it was something. They had to try, because she was horribly afraid the band would break up. Julian already felt like his family was falling apart. His own sister had committed suicide because of his worthless folks, he had some relatives in the States here but had never gotten in touch. His mind slipped quickly past thinking of Veera since it always plunged him into the blackest rage and despair. It was partially his fault but she hadn't known he'd never forgotten about her. He hadn't. He hadn't saved her - never thought she would do something so foolish -- could he save this mess he knew about?

The family he desperately clung to were his friends in the band. He'd struggled to keep the peace between them, Bastian and Elly and Surlaw with his hot-headed never-cry bullshit bravado. And Zero seemed to hang in the balance now, tenuous at best. Surlaw was beating up on his best pal and making everyone feel crappy, including himself. The Joker didn't feel very funny anymore. When he rode home at night to his apartment or got a ride from Bastian didn't matter, he always did the same thing: sat on the couch and played video games while he got wasted.

Forget it all. Make it go away!

Problem was it didn't work for long. There was always another day and more fighting or crying and drama. Julian couldn't stand it anymore. He found himself shaking at random times of the day - even with sticks in hand -- and he couldn't calm his nerves anymore. He needed the stability and it was crashing down around his ears.

This morning he moped around his flat draped in a sheet from his bed and dressed in nothing but old boxers. Ratty, torn old boxers that were ''comfortable'' by Julian standards, meaning they had more than one hole in them and almost anyone else would have considered them for the ragbag long before now.

The phone was ringing, and he was fumbling towards it.

"Whazzit?" Not too understandable but anyone calling him would know his speech. And if it was a telemarketer they could fuck off. He picked it up and blinked. It was Surlaw on the other end, and he was not pleased.

"Ohhh crap," he groaned. "I'll be there, lemme dress or something." He hung up on the shaky-voiced guitarist and quickly dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans and clipping neon green suspenders on he'd just bought the other day. He even bothered to call a cab since the other man had sounded like so much warmed-over shit. He'd never heard the man cry, for one, and it sounded like he'd been bawling deep in his cups. Sure enough when he got to the door Surlaw was a mess, red-faced and obviously drunk as hell. His green eyes were bleary and his cheeks wet.

"The hell you doing, Surlaw? You're a tough fucker. You don't do this kinda shit..." He stopped in his tracks. A thought struck him as he saw the man was also dragging a silly stuffed wolf by one paw. Plushes were something Elly was known for and he grimaced. This was going to be bad, all right. He followed the bigger man inside and carefully latched the door behind him. Surlaw had thrown himself on the plaid couch and he sat there with his head bent, fingers still wrapped tightly around the little thing. It was cute, really, looked a little like one of those Tex Avery cartoon wolves that always followed the show girls around. It would have been a good gift to a rock-star boyfriend you'd nicknamed 'Wolfy'.

"That's it, Julie," he coughed. The big man threw himself at the couch and almost missed. Julian slapped his own face in exasperation and walked over.

"What is?" He leaned on the back of the couch and stared down at Surlaw. The stuffed wolf had been deposited on the coffee table (more carefully than he had thrown himself down, the little guy was even sitting upright). "Uh...she talked to you, didn't she?"

"Yeah." He turned his head away so the drummer wouldn't see his expression, not realizing in his state the soft sobbing would give him away. Julian sighed bitterly.

"I told you."

"Thanks," Surlaw nearly spat.

"No, way man. Listen." He shook his hair out and grimly advanced on the man that had been the cause of all their problems. "What'd she say? Did she tell you she'd have gone back to you if you'd only apologized? Did she say what an asshole you'd been to her?"

"What -"

"No, I didn't think so." Julian was suddenly angry. He liked this man - thought of him as an older brother, really -- but his actions had been bothering him for some time now and he had to let it out. He wanted his family back and this ass was ruining it. "You gotta fucking grow up, man. You weren't right for each other, an' you're better off friends. Bastian wants to marry Els and you'd better get used to the idea or you're gonna ruin the band as well as your friends' opinions of your sorry ass!" He regretted the words when they were out but he was only human after all. He'd been suffering through this as much as anyone else though he'd never showed it. Surlaw's green eyes closed in pain, his bushy eyebrows drawn together as his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

"Bugger all," he finally croaked. Julian knew what he was thinking. The term meant "you had nothing", and he'd lost what he considered a very important thing in his life.

"You've got Zero," he told him, coming around the side of the couch to perch on the arm like a human spider. He propped his skinny arms on his knees and shrugged. "It's all I have too. The band, you guys. I didn't want you to fuck that up so we'd break - uh, not be a band anymore," he amended the phrasing when the big man glared at him.

"My 'vacation' isn't hurting sales any, is it?"

"Marty would call you if it was." Julian shrugged again. "He's a persistent bastard, especially when our profits start dropping." As a matter of fact the tubby little marketing agent had been in ecstasies over the recent events. Word always leaked out and rumors like this were excellent for sales. Zero had always been about more than just their musical performance.

"I need a week to try and sort shit out. At least." Surlaw leaned back and rubbed a hand roughly across his eyes. When he opened them he was staring directly at the little wolf on the table in front of him. His expression hardened. "Get rid of this thing, will you?"

"What, that?" The drummer reached out and tucked the plush in his pocket where it flopped comically down over his jeans. "I'll take care of it. You take care of yourself."

"Yeah." He sniffed and made a sour face. "I think I need a shower or something." As Julian turned to leave he waved at him. "Oi, Julie."

"What?"

"Keep in touch. We'll hang or something this week." Surlaw snorted when he saw the drummer's eyebrows raise. "We're all still friends, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." The green-haired young man suddenly grinned at him, bouncing on his heels. "That's the point, you dumbass."

Life went on, love went on at the condo where Elly and Bastian lived.

They practiced some songs together for fun and were pleased at the results. Bastian thought they made a good team and he wasn't just biased because he loved her. When he listened with a trained ear he thought their voices blended so sweetly he grew more excited every time they tried it. He began to have some ideas for the future that involved staying with her more than ever. Thus Surlaw's hiatus hadn't hurt them too badly. They were resilient both as a band and individuals, mentally and physically.

His body was young and strong and he healed fast in the days that followed the fight. In a week he barely felt anything anymore though some bruising still showed.

"Mmmm, urgh, quit teasing." Bastian shook his head as he lay on the bed with his girlfriend. "I want you." He sighed and dramatically laid his forearm across his face, being careful to avoid the light stain over his left eye.

"Yeah, we forgot to buy them, all right." Elly dug around a little more in the bedside table and frowned. "I swore we had."

"Um, baby, sit down for me, okay? You're very distracting, waving that cute little ass around like that." She looked startled, then realized she was kneeling on the bed with her rear perked up while she leaned. She giggled wickedly but sat back down, closing the drawer with a heavy thump.

"Little? I know you love me, dear, but let's be serious!" Bastian waved a long finger at her - this was a bit of a joke between them -- and she shook her head good-naturedly. "You know it's not little, though."

"It excites the hell out of me!" He made a comical face, wrinkling up his nose. "Ah, shit. I've half a mind to run out and get some condoms so we can."

"I knew you had half a mind." Elly burst into laughter at the young man's sardonic expression. Bastian crawled over to where she sat and arched his back, craning his neck to nuzzle at her throat.

"Right now, yes. One side is yelling 'SEX' as loud as it can."

"What's the other doing?"

"Screaming it louder. What else?" He chuckled when she snorted at him and sat on his haunches to regard her with solemn blue eyes. "I made a promise I would always use a condom since we made love the first time and I'll keep it. I'm just lazy tonight. Not sure I want to make the trip out to the store like last time."

"With the lady that went all crazy on you." Elly snickered. Their fans would sometimes go over the top without realizing it. This clerk had asked him point-blank if he was really living with her like 'the magazines all say'.

"Oh, she wanted to ask all those questions." He winced, threw up his arms as if in surrender. "Yes, we have sex, everyone! Geez. And we prefer non-latex, what a scoop."

"Well, the internet orders take time. If we wait until they arrive after we order them it'll be a day or two. Even with next-day shipping." Elly lay back on the bed, closing her eyes and running her hands down her silk-clad body. Bastian shivered. She was only fidgeting but it was almost too much for his excited body to take.

"I know. How does everyone else do it? I mean, I can sort of slip in the crowds unnoticed but when I'm at the register they usually recognize me. And I like going to the "regular" stores, not the pricey ones where they're more used to celebrities..."

"They have people shop for them, I think." She grimaced. "Maybe we should do that now."

"Ugh. Are we that ritzy?"

"Does it bother you that I ask you to wear one, Bastian? Even though I'm on the pill?" He stopped in the act of brushing his white-frosted bangs off his swollen eye to stare at her incredulously.

"Bother me?" He sounded completely baffled. "No. Why?" The soft blue light from the stained glass lamp on the table beside them shone on his pale face as he frowned lightly at her. Elly exhaled gustily and rolled to face the lamp. It was one she had bought herself, one of those Tiffany ones she'd always wanted and could now afford. The base was thick brass reeds that led up to water-lily greens and blues in the glass shade itself. She contemplated it for some time until she felt him take her hand and kiss the palm gently.

"I don't know. It's stupid, sorry I asked."

"If something's bothering you, baby, say it." He held her hand to his chest where she could feel his heart beating. "I don't want anything held between us, remember? We talked about this before. Don't hold anything back."

"Most guys complain they 'can't feel anything', you know." She paused. "And I'm on the pill. I wanted to know if you felt like I was making you do something silly."

"Elly." Bastian's low voice was suddenly stern and the use of her name caused her to jerk slightly and face him again. He almost never used her name unless he wanted to say something serious. "I'll be completely honest - it does feel better without one. But this is important. You think I'm secretly holding this against you?"

He winced when her eyes flickered down from his. "No, no, baby," he soothed, pulling her into a tight embrace though his ribs still ached on the one side. "You've had some shitty relationships before, I think, to constantly doubt yourself like this. If I felt bad about anything I'd say it. I'm not going to let anything ridiculous like that ruin what we have."

"I'm not taking any chances with us, either," she whispered faintly. "It's why I keep asking things. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He nestled her closer and rocked back and forth. "I like how we always talk. Most guys hide shit from their girls, I always found that retarded. Speaking of how open we are..."

"Were we?" She asked innocently and he laughed.

"Yeah. It's been awhile we've been together, living together. But I never asked since it upset you the first time. Do you want kids?"

"Of course." He sighed happily and Elly went on, "I didn't say anything because I know you, Bastian. You get carried away sometimes. We're not even married yet and you're talking kids." He whimpered suddenly and she pulled away, fearing she'd hurt his side somehow.

"You said 'yet'," he whispered, his ice-blue eyes filling with tears. She blushed deeply and buried her face in his upper chest amid the feather tattoos and ever-present necklace to hide her confusion.

They didn't make love that night at all.

Bastian was too filled with wonder by her slip, the mention that she was thinking of them getting married, possibly hoping he would ask her. He shed a few happy tears and laid back on the bed, gently urging her to lay with him while he stroked her hair. No one spoke anymore; they didn't need to. Elly was too abashed and confused, Bastian was just too thrilled. They fell asleep soon after, the soft light of the lamp casting a drowsy blue glow over their bodies as they cuddled close together.

"You need to relax, sweetie," Bastian breathed. He was kneeling above her on their couch, one hand on the top and one under his girl's shirt. They'd been fervently making out and he'd asked her what she wanted. Much to his surprise she spluttered and grew quiet, looking upset. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, don't know what I want," she said as if apologizing.

"You don't want to ask, do you?" He leaned over her to whisper in her ear, the open sides of his black silk shirt flowing as he moved. "It's not being greedy to ask. I don't mind doing anything for you. Even if you think it's something 'crazy' or wild, let me know." His ice-blue eyes were very calm when he pulled back to gaze into her own.

"I feel guilty." She laughed helplessly, blowing a strand of silvery hair from her brow. For some reason she hadn't had Chastity color it yet.

"Why?" He didn't sound pushy or anything and there was simple curiosity in his open face. The love she also saw there made her blush a little more.

"I don't know. I guess I think I want you too much."

"Too much?" Bastian's white forelock fell over his eyes for a moment, obscuring one completely and a part of the other. He flipped it back with a toss of his head, revealing the softer shading on his bruised eye.

He heals fast, thank God for that, she thought.

"Did someone tell you that?" He locked his arms above her, staying in place while they talked.

"Maybe." She made a wry face. "I do have a really big sex drive for a girl."

"I," Bastian said with a perfectly straight face, "am not. Complaining." He smiled when she blinked up at him.

"Augh, I'm serious!"

"So'm I." He poked her in the belly. "Let me go first, then, if it'll help." He paused, looking around her apartment as if thinking. "You know I'm a submissive but you don't know I like bondage."

"Bastian!"

"Mmm? If something someone you love does gives you pleasure, is it bad?"

"Your logic is impeccable." She snorted, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him in a hug.

"Of course it is. I'm a sex god. You know th-" He squealed with effeminate laughter as she began tickling his lower back. "Cut it out, cut it out! I give!"

"Oh my god, you're so cute when you do that!"

"Crap!" He began wiggling away from her but she slipped lower down on the couch to stay close so she could keep tickling. "Baby, baby please! I'll do anything! Just let me breathe!"

"Aww." But she placed her palms flat on his back and gave him a wicked smirk.

"That's so embarrassing." Bastian pushed his hair back from his forehead again and gasped for air. "I sound like a little girl."

"I thought it was adorable." She snuggled close, a low hum sounding almost like a purr drawing out from her throat. She paused while he kissed her lips, thinking. "All right - so let me think."

"Mnn?"

"So does that mean you like being tied up during sex?" She blushed when he nodded.

"Before, during, or just for kicks," he agreed. He gave her a sly, sidelong glance that caused her heart to flutter rapidly in her chest. "You didn't think it was just a fashion statement that I wear all those collars, did you?"

"Oh!" She gasped and he giggled faintly, sliding his arms around her. The fish tank nearby on the entertainment center bubbled and gurgled pleasantly while he caressed her. He didn't press her anymore, just held her close for awhile until he felt Elly's body relax again.

"I don't ever want you uncomfortable when we make love, baby." Bastian sighed and kissed her softly on the mouth. She shook her head, denying that he made her that way and he smiled. "Just bringing something up. You want me to drop it?"

"N - no." Her eyes narrowed as she thought hard on the subject. "I guess I just feel like I'm sort of sexually repressed sometimes. Maybe we should explore that."

"Repressed? How so? You've never seemed..." He faltered when she gave him a smoldering look that trailed all the way down his chest and lower. "Oh, my."

"I hold back."

"Really?" It came out as a kind of squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "But why, sweetie? Have I ever said anything wrong?"

"No, it's not you." Elly sighed. "It's little things. Guys I've been with before," she rushed on, wincing when she saw the pain in his eyes. "Don't be jealous, Bast."

"I'm not - well, not that much," he hedged. "I just don't like seeing you upset. Let's share, then." He sat up, pulling her with him and around so she was cuddled in his lap. Elly shifted herself so she wouldn't be laying too close to his bruised ribs. They might not hurt him too badly now but they would if they were touched too often.

"Stories?"

"Mmm-hmm. I can go first if you want." He paused, gathering his thoughts and knowing she didn't appreciate crude terms for sexual acts. "I told you before no one really liked going down on me. I accidentally came in someone's mouth once and it was a horrible experience."

"I remember you saying that in the shower that one time."

Yeah." He shivered lightly, remembering how she hadn't made a fuss at all. "I got told I was disgusting and ..." He coughed slightly. "That I didn't have any control."

"Oh, Bastian." She took his hand and hugged it between her breasts.

"Yeah, no pun intended - it sucked." He shrugged. "But I know I come too soon when we have sex, even just fool around. I'm trying to get over that."

"How soon is too soon?" She mused.

"Before you orgasm," he said so dryly that she blinked.

"You never let me go without..."

"I know. But we're discussing what we think are problems, right? And that one's been worrying me." He nuzzled the top of her hair and added in a lighter tone, "Your turn."

"I've been told that I want sex too much," she admitted in a tiny voice. "The first guy said 'he wasn't Superman'. The second told me I was selfish and greedy." She shrank in his arms as she spoke, hot tears pricking at her eyes as she remembered the embarrassments. Once she'd started speaking, however, she told him a few other things that caused him to gasp with concern. There hadn't been overt sexual abuse but her relationships had been terrible.

"My poor baby," he choked when she finished speaking.

"It feels better to talk about it," she assured him.

"Thank you." Bastian took a deep breath. "I'm proud of you, you know. For bringing it up. What do you want to do about it? Anything?" He stretched a leg out along the couch and closed his eyes in contentment. It was such a relief to be able to relax without pain stinging his eye or side.

"I just feel like I'm pushing you all the time." He waited calmly, stroking her left breast lightly with his fingertips. When she didn't go on he slipped the hand under her top and began a much more intimate caress.

"I want you to promise you'll always talk to me, all right? Like this?"

"Mmm, Bastian..."

"Promise me, baby." He rolled a finger over her nipple and she moaned.

"I love you, Bastian," she whispered softly. His other arm came around to curl about her waist in a light hug.

"I love you too, Elly." He kissed her neck. "Don't ever hold anything in like that, all right?"

"No," she agreed. "I won't. You're so good to me." Her voice was low and husky, throbbing with unshed tears. She'd been emotional lately - ever since they had talked in bed that one day, as a matter of fact -- and he wanted to make sure she was all right. And if there was anything that Surlaw's outburst had taught him, it was that holding things in for so long didn't work.

They eventually had to come out.

She woke that morning to the sounds of Bastian slowly picking at his acoustic guitar nearby and the softer burble of the coffee machine in the distance. He was softly playing a drowsy melody while sitting at the foot of their bed and looking out the door. He wore a black silk robe and nothing else but the necklace he never took off. His feather tattoos were partially covered by the silky fabric but a ray of sunlight caught the necklace and the silver shard shimmered in the light.

"Awake, my love?"

"Mmm." Elly yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The bed creaked and she wasn't surprised to find him leaning over her when she opened them again.

"Good morning, birthday girl," he whispered and kissed her gently on the mouth. She fought back another yawn and he grinned. "Go, get up and get ready. I made coffee and got us bagels from that place you like."

"Hmmm, oooh. Salt ones?" Bastian nodded and smiled more as he watched her roll off the bed and head for the bathroom. Her hair was sticking up on one side of her head.

"They're fresh, hasn't melted off yet." He stretched and set the instrument down carefully as the shower started running. Bastian ran a hand through his hair nervously and picked up the phone. He hoped that things were still going smoothly. God knew they'd had a rough time lately, and he wanted to make sure everything was still in place for her party.

"Bastian," Elly called as she poked her head around the bedroom door, "did you get more milk, too?" She stepped out and he sighed from where he stood at the dining room table. She was wearing a light, sleeveless blue t-shirt and jeans with sandals. Tiny shells dangled from her ears and his icy eyes widened in surprise that he covered with admiration for her appearance.

"Um, yeah, I did! Here." He passed her the creamer and they had breakfast together.

"I guess I should get dressed," he murmured when they finished and he'd cleaned up the plates.

"If you're going to take me anywhere you'd better!" She giggled when his eyebrows raised. "I know you're planning on a party, silly. It was hard to choose what to wear since I don't know what type, though."

"You're fine," he purred, leaning over to kiss her on the mouth. His robe fluttered softly against her and she rubbed a hand over his bare chest. "Hmm, okay, dressing. I'd better get dressed." Elly chuckled wickedly and followed him to the bedroom. Since Bastian had showered early he was already clean and only had to put on his clothes. He pulled a sky-blue silk shirt out of the closet and a pair of darker blue shorts.

"Are we matching today?"

"It might help a little," he joked. "I have a lot of your friends and more coming to this thing." He pulled the pants over his narrow hips and slid the shirt on his arms leaving the front open like he usually did. "Be right back," he said and slipped inside the bathroom for some makeup. He tried a little harder on his brush strokes today, adding some blue to his normal dark eyeshadow that matched both their tops.

"Finished yet?"

"Sorry. I did something different."

"Oh my," Elly breathed.

"You like it?" He flashed her a quick grin. "I don't do two colors a lot unless Chas does it for me." Bastian checked his plants while she peered into her fish tank and made sure everything was ready for them to leave.

"Should I take a purse or something?"

"I've got everything in the car," he told her distractedly, snatching his keys off the table by the door and glancing around the room one last time. "Shall we go?"

They ended up on the studio beach. She should have known, she realized - Bastian knew she loved the ocean and he'd gotten tables, chairs and even a gazebo ready with bunches of tied-down balloons and flowers in the small enclosure. There were shells as decorations and the silliest part of all was the fact that he'd bought her a large Steiff pegasus plush. She balked at the cost of the thing, knowing it must have been several hundred dollars.

And not content with that, it was wearing a diamond necklace that matched the bracelet he'd given her earlier for their anniversary.

"Bastian!" The first thing she did when she saw it decorating the table the gifts were laid on was gasp in amazement. He grinned and blushed charmingly while the guests that had gathered around laughed in good-natured amusement. He waved her to mingle while he went and sat down on a chair to one side. Julian was there, and Chas, and some of their friends from the clubs they had played at before. She turned about and faced yet another unexpected surprise. Surlaw looked much better than when she had seen him last. His hat was back on his head and his shades on as well, light orange ones this time that matched his garish top and sun shorts. His sideburns were wild as always and he still had the light fuzz on his chin that was oddly like Bastian's. She tensed a little and then scolded herself for doing it. Even though she tried to relax her eyes were wide as he approached her but his hug was friendly. It wasn't without heart, however. As his arms briefly squeezed her she felt a sick sort of melancholy, of the things that hadn't come to pass. She didn't dare show that, however, so she clenched a fist and grinned instead.

"Happy birthday," he said quietly when they parted.

"Thanks. I don't know if I expected you to be here or not, but I'm glad you came."

"Me too," he murmured. It was meant to sound sincere but it came out a little flat. He was trying very hard, she saw. He also forced a smile and shrugged. "I have to do something. I might see you again later, but if I don't have fun." His smile was crooked, his green eyes lingering on her face a bit wistfully before he turned away. He strode over to her boyfriend and extended a hand.

"Surlaw?" Bastian didn't sound as surprised as she had been - of course he'd probably invited him -- but there was a hint of shock in his voice when he approached him. She watched carefully but the big man sat down and they started talking peacefully enough.

The whole party ended up being a success and it was fun! It was only later at the condo when they were unloading the gifts that her boyfriend sighed and handed her a small packet.

"What's that?"

"He wanted me to give it to you afterward." Bastian shrugged and hefted the last set of bags in his arms. Elly opened it before following him, pulling the thin red string off the brown wrapping. Surlaw didn't bother with fancy things, never had. She put out a hand to lean on the car beside her when the paper fell away to reveal what was inside.

There was a note that read 'I was going to throw it away but if he gives it to you keep it. It was for you and it can't belong to anyone else.' Elly set her jaw and held the little thing in her clenched fist while she strode as quickly as possible into the house. She went directly to her underwear drawer and placed the whole thing - paper and all -- in a small box she kept there.

"He wanted you to have it," she heard Bastian say quietly. "He said he wouldn't sell it or let anyone else have it. And he'd only give it to you if I said it was okay. He placed it under my discretion."

"You don't think he's, you know. Going back to what he was like before?"

"No." He wrapped his arms around her. "Right now all it is to him is a piece of something that hurts for him to own. He doesn't want you to wear it, just own it 'cause he's trying to let go."

Letting go was something they were all practicing at some form or another.

Elly swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her heart was beating too quickly and she was breathless with excitement and nerves. The discussion they had recently had about sex had been enlightening. She had told him how she felt and he had soothed her fears - in fact, he'd suggested that she be more aggressive like she wanted. Had encouraged it.

And so when she woke earlier than her boyfriend that morning she thought a bit of a wake-up call was in order for the heavy sleeper. What made things much easier was the fact that they'd separated in the middle of the night somehow and were laying on either sides of the bed. She was closer to the alarm and reached over, turning it quietly off. Then she scooted as close to Bastian's murmuring form as she could, smiling when he hummed and reached for her. He was affectionate even in his sleep. God, she loved him. Elly and Bastian inevitably kicked the covering off them every night as well and she stared adoringly at his naked body while he lay lightly snoring. Only his feet were wrapped in a swatch of blue silk bedsheets. Once in awhile he came to bed nude, saying he loved the feel of the silk against his body and she loved to watch him sleep this way.

She ran a soft palm along his feather-tattooed chest, down his abdomen that flexed lightly as she passed it and below his navel. His manhood was lightly firm. She smiled when she recalled how he'd somewhat sheepishly told her he almost always woke with an erection. It had been the morning after the first time they'd made love. He muttered something and she grinned harder, trying to rid herself of the lingering doubts in her mind. He'd told her he wanted her to do what she wanted, when she wanted. She wasn't being too demanding. She took a deep breath, reminded herself of these things and gently stroked his member rigid. It didn't take long; she was amused to note that her man was aroused quickly even while asleep. He stirred restlessly, surely wakening and she leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. Her tongue slipped out and she licked the tip of his erection, running it along the underside of the cap and then softly engulfing the head in her warm mouth. Bastian woke with a startled whimper and blurted out something he might not have had he been fully awake.

"Ngh, that's it... suck me dry." She gasped but continued to tease his sensitive tip, dabbing with her tongue at the slit. Her cheeks were burning furiously. He had never said anything like that before. Her surprising him with an early-morning oral sex was probably the last thing he'd ever thought would happen and he was still half-asleep, stunned and unable to drag himself to wakefulness. She knew he liked this and had rarely received one with anyone else. His eager little cries as she relentlessly kissed his sex urged her on and she stroked him below, faster when he made gentle grinding motions with his hips. He was more awake now, calling her name and praising her technique. She felt his arms move and glanced aside to see him grab at the mattress, hands tightened into fists.

"Elly love, you want me to ..." He struggled with it, lips pressed together. This was one of his problems they had talked about and she wanted to help him understand that she didn't mind. So she pushed Bastian the only way she knew how, sucking harder at the tip of his penis until he burst out, "Oh my god! Baby, I can't hold back!" She held on while he flopped and twisted, finally crying out so loudly that she blinked. "Your warm, sweet mouth!"

He writhed in a paroxysm of pleasure for some time while she tried to keep up with the flow of seed entering her. She was more worried about him panicking that he had upset her if she choked but in the end it was fine. He lay back on the bed with an arm draped over his forehead, wheezing comically.

"My god," he gasped when he could speak. "Oh my god, babe, I'll never complain about getting up early again!"

It was the first time they would be appearing together since their estrangement. Surlaw seemed to be truly better now, though his eyes sometimes had a haunted look in them. He'd stare at something and remain that way for just a few seconds too long, for instance. The guys ignored it; Elly didn't notice. She was trying to forget what he had given to her on her birthday and doing commendably well so far.

After they had met up a few times and practiced some of their older songs the band manager brought up an idea: another public appearance, something on television with the whole group so they could announce the tour they had been planning for some time. The show was sort of formal so Chastity had dressed them suitably. Julian made a face as he tugged on his tie.

"I hate wearing this!"

"It's not so bad, Julie. You look nice." Elly winked at the others who were trying to stifle laughter. Julian usually wore ratty shirts and torn jeans on a regular basis.

"I look like a toad in a tux. You look like Jessica Rabbit." He started to make the hand gestures around her shape but paused at her waist which was certainly thicker than the cartoon character's. "Well, a little, anyway."

"Fuck you, Joker."

"Nah, don't think so. You're just not my type." He made kissy faces at her until she hit his arm in exasperation. "Ow, quit, I bruise easy."

"Pansy." But she said it affectionately, with a smile. Julian was like the brother she never had and she loved him that way.

"I cannae tell a lie, you know that. I'm like a green-haired Irish version of Washington, or some shit. Wasn't that the guy?" His accent was rarely heard and Surlaw raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting when he glanced over for affirmation. He nodded and Julian started ticking off a list on his fingers. "A rabbit, a skunk, a wolf. What am I?"

"Skunk? Just because I wore that costume?" Bastian objected, half-rising from the stool he was seated on. Surlaw snickered, covering his mouth with the back of a gloved hand. The bassist frowned, then seemed to remember something.

"How about one of those little poison dart frogs," Elly was suggesting to Julian with a twinkle in her eye. "You've got the coloring for it."

"Now, just because of my hair - " Both Julian and Bastian said this at the same time and blinked at each other. Surlaw howled laughter and Elly nearly fell off the chair in good mirth.

That had been the interview, and the trip was starting out just as well. A few days later the band loaded into a fresh new tour bus to tour the States one more time. Their band manager thought that next time they should look into touring Overseas and that was something extra exciting. But for now the new bus with beautifully equipped amenities was enough.

"Oh, wow, look at these side rooms! They're bigger than what we had before." Bastian yanked the curtains back on one and peered in, pleased. There were only two since the band would mostly be staying in hotels along the way. And yet they were large enough to comfortably fit two people in each cot, enough for all of them to fit in if they wanted to nap. Elly paused, a strange look passing over her pale face as she stared at the bed. She smiled somewhat ruefully the next moment when Surlaw yawned.

"I'm all for testing one out," he said. "Blast. The first day of a trip like this always wears me out. I hate it."

"You know you'll get used to it after a few days," she told him lightly.

"Yeah," Julian said breathlessly from where he was checking out the mini fridge. "Besides, look at all these energy drinks and stuff!" Bastian rolled his eyes at his friend but the Joker pointed at some strawberry milk that was in there and he grinned hugely.

"It gets harder to start out each time. I think it's got to do with age," Surlaw was snorting. He rolled himself onto the cot. "Here - someone tell me when it's been an hour. I don't want to get my days and nights screwed up."

"Sure," the guys called out. Elly nodded and walked over to where they stood appraising the food and drink situation.

"Snacks for the road?"

"Yeah, lookit this! Geez, they got us a freezer and a microwave!" The drummer was in ecstasies. "And little nukable hamburgers!"

"I hope Emory knows he's gonna have to refill that thing every time we stop," Bastian laughed.

"Ah, he knows us." Julian tossed his bright green curls back from his face and stepped back from the fridge. "He's riding in the other bus with Chas and all, right?"

"Yeah," Elly murmured. "The staff has one bus. We get this all to ourselves." She gestured expansively.

"Awesome," Bastian breathed. "This is really excellent." He looked about and pointed at the common area. Elly nodded and followed him in, trailed by Julian. They all took seats around a small, bolted-down table. "I mean, I know that sales have been up and everything but really, this is insane!"

"We're having one of those good runs of luck, I think," his girlfriend chuckled. He laid an affectionate hand on hers.

"I might have a surprise for you sooner than later, then," he grinned.

"Dude, guys! They put our fan mail in here so we had something to do while we were driving around." Julian rested his head in his hands as he looked at the stacks, three of them large, one so tiny. "No one loves the drummer, man, this sucks!"

Bastian and Elly looked at him in surprise and started to laugh. It was a great start to the trip and they had good feelings about the tour already. After several concerts, though, they'd started to wind down already.

"Oh, man, that was tiring." Bastian dropped into a chair as soon as he'd walked into the room backstage that had been assigned to them. He could still hear the crowd cheering and their exuberance seemed to exhaust him even more.

"I expect we've all gotten soft," Surlaw suggested lightly. "We haven't put on a concert or show in a long time now."

"Lot of effort," Elly murmured. She had sank into her boyfriend's lap and Bastian held her loosely around the waist. The silver signet ring he was wearing gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The only member that wasn't tired was their drummer. Nothing got to the man and he was literally thrumming with energy, bouncing in the chair he sat on while he dug around in the refreshment trays.

"Hey, they sent us champagne!"

"Pass," Surlaw said shortly, scrubbing a hand over his bushy sideburns. He walked over to the door and poked a head out. "Emory? Em!" There was too much noise out there for their tour assistant to hear so he exasperatingly mouthed the words, 'how long?'

"Are you all right, baby?" Bastian smiled when Elly stroked his white bangs away and kissed his cheek.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"Me? You're the one I'm worried about. I've never seen you this tired."

"Eh." He waved it off, glancing over at Surlaw's back.

"Oh." She nodded. Some of the songs they had played had been older ones - pieces Surlaw has sung to her before. The others were love songs sang by Elly and it wasn't hard to see how she aimed them at her boyfriend. Her ex had held up well, though. But now she saw it wasn't the physical exertion that had worn Bastian out. It had been worrying if their guitarist was going to have a regression of the black depression and anger that had nearly torn the band apart. But Surlaw seemed perfectly okay - if as tired as they were -- when he strolled back and plopped heavily into the remaining chair.

"Em said," he grinned ruefully and held up one finger, mimicking what the large man had done. "One hour."

"A whole hour?" Elly's shoulders sagged.

"It's crowded," the heavyset man grunted, glancing over at Julian who was attempting to pop the cork on the champagne bottle. "And he wants us to be safe when we head out. Nothing like last time." Bastian winced. He was referring to when they had rolled out and tried to get right into the bus after the previous concert. It was great to be famous and have fans that loved you, but downright scary when they attacked you like a mob. Without even talking about it Surlaw and Bastian had immediately formed up around Elly and they'd all managed to crash their way through with the help of some of the guards and not a few of the roadies.

"Oh snap!" The cork popped loudly and Julian began laughing wildly as foam ran down the glass bottle. "Get the glasses! Get any glasses!" The cork had bounced off the wall and landed in his mess of green-tangled curls. Elly slipped off Bastian's lap to help him while Surlaw gravely plucked the offending cork from their drummer's hair. The band drank (except Surlaw, who had been abstaining for several weeks now), chatted and nibbled on the food provided them. It seemed a very short time later despite Elly's groaning that Emory motioned them that the bus was ready.

Bastian rushed to open the door for her and she yawned as she stepped up, nodding at the driver as she passed. Surlaw and Julian stayed behind for a moment and when she had reached the common area in the back she saw why. A huge display of roses was covering most of the bolted-down table.

"More fan gifts?" She walked to the roses but smiled softly when she saw Bastian's flowing script on the card. "You spoil me, Bast. I don't need..."

"I do." He smiled, grasped her around the waist from behind and bent his head slightly to nuzzle the top of her head. "You do."

"I already told you I have everything I need," she murmured, holding his hands as they held her.

"Not yet," he said gently, "But I'm working on it." He paused, his blue eyes distant. "Just wanted to say you were great out there tonight. The old songs I was sort of afraid of, but everything worked out. And the new -" he choked. Some of their new pieces were love songs sang by Elly. He'd nearly dropped his bass at one point when she'd walked over to him and reached out to touch his face in a gesture of infinite love.

"How can I ever thank you, though?"

"For what?"

"Everything." She sighed. "Everything is so much better now. I think this is the best I've felt in a long, long time." Behind the happy couple Julian laid a comradely arm on Surlaw's shoulder. He sighed, smiled wearily at the drummer but said nothing.

Bastian walked about the room, frowning. In one hand he held a piece of hotel stationary that he glanced at from time to time. His shock of white bangs flopped as he paced around to reveal he'd messed up some of the makeup on his eyes, smearing it a little to the side of his left temple.

There was a knock on his door and he rushed over to check the peephole.

"Julie."

"Geez, you don't have to sound so disappointed." The drummer strolled in with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his paint-speckled jeans. Suspenders flapped from his belt as he walked.

"Sorry," Bastian mumbled. "Here -" he shoved the paper at his friend. "Look at this!"

"Hwha?" Julian took the note and threw himself down on the table. "Yeah, so what? Els went out shopping with Chas. Big deal."

"She didn't tell me before, and I don't think she wore anything to disguise herself." Bastian wrung his hands together. "I told her never to go out well, uh, un-disguised."

"You worry too much," Julian told his friend. He tossed the paper on the table. "She's gotta live her own life too."

"I'll die if anything happens to that girl, Julie! She was attacked before and that guy couldn't stay locked up forever. He's out again. What if he tries anything? Everyone knows we're on tour and where we should kind of be at what dates and times, you know?"

"Dude." The green-haired young man kicked at Bastian's shin. "You gotta relax. She's not gonna like it if you crowd her, man. She's got someone else with her. She'll blend in."

At this moment there was a pattering of feet in the hallway and breathless giggles from two female voices.

"Hurry up!"

"They won't follow us here - they can't."

"They'll try!" There was an urgent scramble at the door and before Bastian could see who it was Elly plunged in followed by Chastity, the band makeup artist and about five bags too many for both women to carry. They nearly fell on top of each other as they darted inside and then the singer spun about, closed the door and securely locked it.

"Oh my god." She was panting hard, hectic spots of color in her cheeks but still laughing.

"Elly!" Bastian ran over to her and grasped her in a tight hug. "What happened?" Chas ran a hand through her blond hair and shakily walked over to the sitting room table. Julian held a chair out for her and she plopped into it, throwing her hands to either side of the arms.

"We made the mistake of walking too close to a record store," she huffed. "They had one of those big freaking, like, massive cardboard displays of you all on it."

"You were recognized." Bastian lifted Elly's face with a firm hand. No disguise, all right.

"Bast?" Elly sounded startled. "What's wrong?"

"Damn it, Elly!" He burst out with such vehemence that their two friends jumped in shock. "You know better than to do that! I told you never to go out without something on to cover up some of your face or something."

"Pffff." She exhaled air in a disdainful sort of way. "We were just chased by some rabid fans. Nothing happened."

"You could have been hurt!" He was holding her by the shoulders now and he squeezed tight enough to cause her to glance down at his hands.

"You're yelling, dear." She pried his hands off her and stared at him coolly. She'd never seen him angry at her at all and she was starting to get pissed herself. "I don't want to go outside all made up to be someone I'm not all the time. I just wanted to go out." Bastian ground his teeth and banged a fist on his leg.

"You promised me," he hissed.

"But..." Elly paused. "We never talked about doing that forever. That was only that one time. We both dressed up so we didn't get mobbed while we went on the boardwalk."

"Dude?" Julian dared to speak, if a bit quietly. He was completely ignored and he shrugged helplessly at Chas, who was watching with some concern.

"Maybe we should...?"

"Yeah. If people aren't there in the hallway we should, uh, go." The two got up and left, trying to be an inconspicuous as possible.

"Is that their first argument?" Chastity looked worried when the door closed after her and they heard Elly raise her voice another notch.

"First one I know of." He glanced over his shoulder as they started to walk down the hall. "They'll work it out, though. He's just worried. When she realizes that it'll be cool."

Back in the suite Bastian and Elly had gotten for their stay in this city the situation had progressed to the crying stage. And it wasn't Elly who was doing the sniffling.

"Don't be mad at me, baby," Bastian was pleading to the closed door in front of him. He blew his nose in a tissue he held in one shaking hand. "Please... I didn't mean to yell." His normally pale features were chalk-white now, his blue eyes overflowing with tears.

"Leave me alone for a second," she snapped from the other side of the door. "Let me calm down."

"Shit," he whined softly, staggering back towards the small room by the door again. He sat in the chair Chas had so recently been in and stuffed a hand into his mouth to stifle any sounds. He was certain that his weeping would make things worse so he bit his palm and tried to be as silent as possible.

I was only afraid for her, he thought dismally. So many things had happened - the attack on her life he'd blocked (and would bear the large scar from his entire life that ran down the left side of his shoulder blades to his lower back), the crazy fans that day after the one concert, a million other silly things. And then the guy getting out of jail that had attacked her. He'd thought of nothing else when she had left him the note that said she'd "gone shopping". Such an innocent thing. In all respects, she was right. She couldn't be afraid constantly like he was for her own safety. What kind of life would that be? But with their ever-growing fame came precautions that needed to be taken. They weren't "normal people" anymore. If anyone saw them there would be chaos almost anywhere they went. That was why Bastian frequently took a change of clothing with him that was completely the opposite of what he liked to wear, with a baseball cap and sunglasses to top off the ensemble. The shades covered his eyes and the cap his trademark hair. He whimpered and held his face in his hands, palms covering his eyes and smearing the makeup on his lids even more. He knew he called her "baby" but he was the child now, terrified more of his girl's angry retorts and the slamming of the bedroom door. He didn't know how long he sat there and he was too scared to try and do anything - flowers, more apologies, anything -- when the door creaked slowly open. She had actually had it open a tiny crack for some time, watching him as he sat there, disconsolate and moody-looking in his dark silk shirt and pants. As she watched she'd heard the soft sounds he was making and couldn't be angry anymore. She didn't want him to hurt, so she sighed and opened the door the rest of the way.

"Bast, honey," Elly murmured. He jerked upright, eyes wide and smeary with sooty makeup. She felt ashamed of herself for making him cry but they had to have this out. He nearly flung himself into her arms and buried his cold face in the side of her neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hurriedly. "I didn't mean to sound like I was ordering you around."

"I'm sorry for worrying you so much," she conceded. "Bastian, I was just so tired of always having to sneak around. I wanted to do something like I used to."

"Do you want more space?" He asked this numbly, his eyes mournful. "Am I being too clingy?"

"No! No," she added more gently when he winced, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Here, let's go sit on the bed. I really want you to hold me all of a sudden."

"Okay." He smiled faintly and picked her up, holding her tightly against him as he neared the hastily-made bed. He placed her near the middle of the bed then sat and scooted around her, legs making a "v" that curled around her from behind. "I really am sorry," he said again. "I was only worried. That guy got out, the mob the other night... you know. I'd - I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

"I know." Elly leaned against his warm chest, shifting when the necklace made out of the knife shard he always wore poked into her back. She twisted her lips into a wry little smile. "I promise not to go out without at least a disguise from now on, okay?"

"Unless we get a guard or something," he amended hastily. "We can do that. Have someone follow us sometimes to make sure you're - we're -- okay." He kissed under her ear and she shivered.

"All right."

"I only want to take care of you," he husked in his throbbing voice. "I'll always take care of you." He nuzzled at her cheek and dabbed his tongue at her lips from behind. He couldn't reach and he mewled softly in protest. Elly smiled. She hoped he was always so kittenish after they had a disagreement. This making up was better than any other times she'd experienced with anyone else.

"I need you to do this for me, Rick." Elly's head perked up as she woke suddenly. She was groggy and for a moment couldn't tell where she was. Bastian's voice was low and urgent and close to her in the darkness. It sounded like he was just outside the curtain - that's right, they were sleeping on the bus as they sped towards the latest state on their tour. She reached out and pulled the fabric back to reveal her boyfriend dressed in soft cotton pajama pants and nothing else. He held his cell phone in one hand and was frowning as he spoke into it. The scar on his back looked almost black in the dimly-lit cabin and very large. She traced it with her eyes as she often did, her heart melting with love for him. Her obsessive protector and the love of her life. Elly rested her chin on her hands and watched him as he continued speaking.

"No... no, what? You know it. Just practice a lot, all right? Yeah. Seeya." He snapped the phone closed and rolled his shoulders back, yawning softly.

"Did Ricky really call in the middle of the night?"

"Erk!" He jumped a little, spun about to face her with his ice-blue eyes wide. "Well... we're Central Time here, now. He forgot about the time changes."

"How close are we to the hotel? These cots are okay, but I really want a bed." She smiled and held the sheets open for him to crawl in beside her.

"No kidding. I'm not complaining but I can't wait to get in a bed with real pillows again too." He poked the flat travel-sized things with some distaste but paused when a hand began caressing the feather tattoos on his chest. "Mmmm, hey. You're going to put me to sleep," he murmured drowsily at the gentle petting.

"So? You need to."

"Yeah," he agreed tiredly. One of the last shows they had done had ended in a series of encores that, while exciting and fun at the time had left the band completely drained of energy for awhile. They were also behind schedule due to a series of unforeseen construction blocks along the interstates they were passing through so they had canceled their reservations at the last hotel and were driving straight through to the next gig. That had added to their fatigue and they were all trying to stock up on sleep while they could - all except Bastian, that is. He'd been having trouble sleeping again lately.

"Then let me help. I know you've been worrying about something. Your plants, I'd guess. But I'm sure Rick's taking care of them and my fish, too. And I can help you sleep, love."

"Nmm." He was already nuzzling close against her side, his face pressed close to her shoulder. He absently kissed it, smiling to himself. "We get rested up I'm'a show you something."

"Is it a surprise?"

"Nah." Bastian giggled suddenly when her fingers grazed lower on his belly. She apologized with a kiss and he tilted his head up to meet hers. "Just new stage outfits Chas got us."

"The band?"

"No, just us. We match." He rolled his eyes. "My pinstriped pants? You have a jacket that matches them perfectly now and more. All the same gray, black, white and blue."

"Aw, she told me she was going to do that. Part of the image again, they want to home in the fact that we're an item. Love sells."

"Not to mention the songs you're singing. I don't mind, baby, but warn me next time you're going to do something so sweet on stage. I nearly dropped my bass last time you slipped up behind me to hug me while I was playing."

"But you didn't." Elly grinned and sighed, burrowing her feet deeper under the sheets to find the colder part of the cot. They ached after standing on them for so many hours straight in the boots she wore while performing. The furry things looked adorable but they hurt after too much wear.

"No," he agreed, "I didn't." Bastian suddenly rolled over on top of her on the tiny bed and kissed her more seriously. "And as long as neither one of us is sleeping anyway..."

"Not with the others right there!" She gasped, shocked.

"Oh, I have another surprise for you." He blinked slowly down at her, still grinning. "I can be really, really quiet when we make love."

"Not that quiet?"

"If any of them guesses what we're up to I'll go shopping with you the next place you want to go, wherever it is. Minimal disguises, just like, hats."

"Do you challenge me, sir?" She arched her back and smirked up at him, raising her hands to encircle his neck.

"I'll win," he taunted gently.

"I doubt it."

The mall was fairly crowded and this worked to their favor instead of the other way around. People pushed past without even glancing at anyone else in a hurry to get where they wanted to go. They pulled screaming kids along, or, in some cases, the kids pulled them straight to the store Elly was headed for with a wicked twinkle in her dark eyes.

"Build-a-Bear? Aw, man, not this!" Bastian groaned and slapped a hand to his face. "The guys'll never let me live it down." He was grinning under his palm, though he wouldn't have let her see that for the world right then.

"You lost, remember," she replied cheerfully. "I get to pick where we go and I've always wanted to do this. Look." She pointed at the sign. "Teens and up only tonight. I didn't know they had this!" Elly leaped gleefully inside the colorfully painted storefront. Bastian sighed and yanked his hat a little harder down on his head. They were dressed casually and the only concession to their leaving the bus like this were the hats. As long as they kept them on and their faces sometimes lowered they were somewhat unnoticeable. Besides, who thought that the person next to you in your old, boring mall would be a famous rock star? Elly wore her usual tank top with scarves wrapped about her neck and one arm. It had become a fad for fans to dress that way and though she'd been embarrassed at first she could now wear it publicly without attracting attention. As a matter of fact, Bastian glanced around and noticed several teenage girls were dressed in a similar fashion. He chuckled, adjusted the thin leather collar he wore about his neck and strolled in. His silk shirt wasn't open at the front - he'd thought it best to hide his tattoos, a dead giveaway -- but it was one of his favorites, dark gray with black curling patterns all over it. He stuck his hands in his faded black jeans as he watched his girlfriend stroll about the aisles, trying to pick out what she wanted.

"You got lucky, ma'am. They're getting ready to start a new friend session!" An assistant had cornered her. Elly beamed and waved a hand at Bastian.

"C'mon, hon," she giggled. "I signed you up, too!"

"Yes, dear." He joined her and stared down at all the bins. "Wh - how do we do this?"

"You have to pick one." She held up a flat animal body. "They stuff them when we start and everything."

"You picked a bunny." His lips quirked up in a smile. "I doubt they have a skunk for me, though."

"Wrong!" Elly burst out laughing as the attendant tossed one over at him with an amused look. "It's this month only, though, you got lucky. I'll make mine for you, and you can make that one for me."

"Sounds like a plan," he said amiably, holding the limp little black and white body in one hand and curling his other arm affectionately around her. They picked out little outfits for the animals, dressing them as close to each other as they could and laughing the whole time. Bastian was fussier than she expected about this and he pondered his skunk for some time before considering that the body was too black to use a sharpie on it: "for the tattoos," he added in a husky, conspiratorial voice that made her laugh even harder. They watched as all the animals got stuffed and everyone gave them their little hearts. Bastian grinned as he flipped his when he made his wish and winked at Elly. She stuck her tongue out at him and a few of the girls around smiled.

"We can record your voice and place it inside, too," the employee said cheerfully. "Does anyone want to do this?" A few of the girls blushed and shook their heads when it came to their turn. Others told their significant others they loved them and one told their mom "happy birthday". Bastian's ice-blue eyes had come alight and when it was his turn he chuckled and held a finger up.

"How long is the recording?"

"Approximately 30 seconds, I believe," the young woman told him earnestly.

"Really? Well, I think I can manage to fill it up." He cleared his throat and nudged Elly beside him to warn her of impending recognition. She hid a smile behind her hand. She'd seen several Mister Zero pins on the girl's jackets and one t-shirt (that had shocked her for some reason) so she was sure they'd all throw a fit when they heard him. Bastian had an unmistakable singing voice. He could go out in public and both talk normally without being noticed but if he sang, there was another matter...

The girls around them became wide-eyed as he briefly purred a little bit from one of their pieces they were doing on tour. When he stopped even the stuffer had an odd expression on her face. One of them let out a little squeak and he placed a hand to the brim of his hat and lifted it off, slipping an arm around Elly again as she did the same. His trademark white-banged hair flopped down over one eye like it always did and he sighed with relief. It felt wrong when it was off his face. Elly was running a hand through the top of her spiky hair, wrinkling her nose because the spikes had laid flat under the cap.

"Oh my god," the employee gasped. "For serious? I'm going to your concert tomorrow."

"Oh, hey, good," he grinned. "At least we know one person bought a ticket." The girl's eyes widened and he let out an oof when Elly elbowed him in the side. "Ow!"

"Shut up, Bast," she snickered. "He's teasing you," she assured the startled young employee. "He's not actually this modest."

They left some very happy fans behind that day. The stuffer went and got a fabric marker from behind the counter and signatures went all around. Some of the animals got signed on their bellies and that made Elly smile every time. The couple left the mall through the employee door by the manager's permission and they slipped into the ride that was waiting to take them back to the hotel. As the car pulled around onto the main street Bastian tapped the huge boxes in his arms and chuckled.

"I ought to lose more bets."

"You'd have won that time if you hadn't fallen off the cot."

Before the next concert, Julian sat blankly staring at the photo he always carried with him in his wallet. The hair that was strawberry-red on him had always been more carroty on her head. She'd hated that. He smiled, tears pricking his eyes as he carefully sat the folding wallet on its side so she could watch him. He always did this before a concert: before anyone showed up and even before his makeup was put on he chatted with Veera. She'd apparently known what he was up to in the States, under her bed in that secret hiding place she'd had the cops - Gardai they called them back there -- had found news clippings of him everywhere. Rock magazines she'd probably gotten from friends or in the trash someplace. Old newspapers. He knew his folks would never have let her own anything like that.

Crap, he wanted a smoke. But he didn't because Veera wouldn't like that while he was talking to her.

"So, today, we're doing the same old thing we always do." He shook his bleached and dyed curls back from his face as he adjusted his low-riding jeans. They had started to fall lower on his hips lately, though he stuffed himself full of food every chance he got. "You know. Els gonna sing, Surlaw is doing some of the old songs too, and then Bastian'll do a few of his." He paused.

"I like that old stuff better. It's got more complicated drum pieces. I even get a solo on one of 'em." He grinned. "I bet you can hear me all the way up there sometimes - or at least it feels like it." Tears ran down his face but he ignored them because it was what always happened. "I wonder if you liked our music. If you ever heard it. You... left before we got this popular. But I guess if Zero had reached our shitty little town we were popular enough. I know you'd have had to smuggle everything in. Da wouldn'tna let you have anything." Unlike Surlaw, Julian was even more Americanized than the British-born guitarist. He hardly spoke in an accent unless he was alone and with his sister. Not a lot of people even knew he had one but they saw he understood more of his band mate's lingo than anyone else. A lot of it matched up, was all.

That accent.

His damned accent.

Julie hated it.

It reminded him of his parents and how they had treated them growing up. But it also reminded him of his sister in general so he reverted (usually without realizing it) when he spent time with her. Traces of an accent still lingered in the way he slurred some words together or said things strangely. But no one thought anything of it if he said anything different or used rhyming slang because he was "the weird drummer", the oddball of the band. All and none of this flashed through his mind as he wandered aimlessly around the small dressing room assigned to him. He spoke of anything that came to his mind, rambled, really. Trying to drown out the sense of loss he always felt. Maybe if he had a girl it wouldn't matter so much but no one seemed to want him. Elly said it was 'their loss' but it felt more like his. He snorted and checked the time, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

"Time to get to work," he sighed. "I'll see you next time." He reached out and closed the wallet firmly, tucked it in his pocket. He walked over to the mirror and checked his face for signs of crying, wiped the tears away and blinked several times. He thought of the next hotel they were going to get to stay at and a slow grin spread across his cherubic features. With that in mind and excitement building in him for the show that would start in a half an hour he bounced out of the room in search of Chastity, the makeup artist.

"Yo, Chas!" He found her in Bastian's room putting the finishing touches on his ever-complex makeup. This time she'd incorporated swirls that came down from the corners of his sooty eyelids, a striking contrast to his pale skin.

"'Sup, Joker." Bastian grinned at his friend.

"You look like some Egyptian guy - what's that, a pharaoh."

"Gee, thanks." Bastian shook his head.

"Don't do that." Chas slapped lightly at his cheek. "I want to fix this side better... there." The bleached blond woman pursed her cherry-red lips and peered critically at her handiwork.

"Done?"

"Done," she confirmed. "Now scoot. Julie takes so much longer than any of you." Bastian laughed and ambled out of the room, most likely in search of his girl. Julian frowned as he threw himself in the chair.

"You guys know I hate that."

"But it's so much fun, Julie!" Chastity gave him a vapid, wide-eyed smile that was meant to irritate him even more. She chuckled throatily when he glared at her. "Besides, we could always call you something worse." She began rummaging in a large box off to the side as he blew a raspberry at her.

"Gimme the usual."

"Yepper." She held up a tube of white and a small pot of neon green. "Let's get the tent out." He nodded and snapped the plastic robe around his neck when she dragged it towards him. The makeup wouldn't splatter on his outfit when they used it - not that adding a few splashes to his jeans would look different. They were already weathered and green-spotted. Julie liked punk wear and stuck to it despite the others never wearing anything like it at all.

"You doing anything later?" He asked this without hope of her accepting a date but it had become sort of a ritual for them. Chas shrugged the implication in his question off.

"If Elly asks me to hang with you guys. Otherwise, not really. I shopped in that mall the other day that they went to..."

"The one with the bear store?" He snickered softly.

"Yeah, that one." She yawned a little, covering her mouth with the hand that still held the tube of face paint. "The store put up one of the bears they'd signed in the window, it was really cute." She pinned his hair up and started to smear the makeup on. White on the face that dripped messily down his neck. Green across the lips, staining them off to one side. It took around twenty minutes or more before she leaned back and then nodded to show she was finished.

"I gotta go make sure they set my drums up right." He yanked the plastic off his neck and handed it to her.

"Have a good one."

"Ah, they're all good." As always, he positively glowed when he had his makeup on. When he darted out of the room Chas wondered idly why he always seemed happier with the makeup than without. She assumed it was because he didn't like the way he looked but had never asked.

"None of my business," she murmured as she began brushing powder off her smock and wiping white goo off her hands. The tan young woman rolled her eyes dramatically at her reflection in the mirror when she checked her face. She had her nose in everything concerning Bastian, Surlaw and Elly. Why not Julian? He appeared to be the most normal one out of the bunch but she'd never really gotten to know things about him. He didn't open up the way the others did. Chas stood and thought about this as more people poured into the hall, talking animatedly. There was the sound of instrument checks and loud noises. Once there was a crash as if someone had dropped something extremely heavy. She ignored this; it was all familiar sounds by now. She thought that maybe she would take him up on that date he'd been bugging her about for more than a year. It wouldn't have to be something serious. She was just curious how he'd managed to avoid her intelligence-gathering skills.

"Not for long, kiddo." She snapped the lid on her makeup box decisively.

There was a couple crisis not long after that show.

"Oh my god. We're going to have to get Em to buy it." Bastian paused. "Or Chas. Or someone else. Who do you think would be better? Do you think Chas would talk? I know she's your friend but..." Elly held up her palm before his chest.

"Bastian, calm down."

"But you've been sick a few days now and, well, your period..."

"I've skipped before. Let's not panic." She sat down on the edge of the hotel's bed and ran a hand through her sweaty hair. They'd eaten some shaky meals lately while they were on the road and she was certain it had to be that and nothing else. "Bastian."

"But!" He stopped when he saw her shaking her head. The young musician took a deep, shaking breath and sat down beside her, his hands going immediately to the back of her neck and massaging gently. "All right, we've been careful. But everything is only 99 percent sure and there could have been a hole or tear in one of the condoms we used."

"And I'm on birth control, remember? We discussed this before. I just ate something that didn't agree with me and then I did it again because I didn't know what it was. Probably those burgers out of the mini fridge."

"I don't know how Julie stands those." Bastian made a face and dropped his hands from her shoulders to rub nervously at his chin scruff. "I still want to get one of those tests."

"Not a bad idea," she sighed.

"You okay? Is it okay? What would happen if..." He stopped short as she raised a hand to his lips.

"Wait until the test is done before you start worrying. I'm trying to."

"I thought you weren't nervous about it."

"You're contagious," she said dryly.

It didn't take long to get Emory to agree to pick up the item they needed. He was a complete professional about it and never even so much as raised an eyebrow. Bastian thanked him when he handed them the small Walgreen's bag a half an hour later.

"No problem. If you need anything else I'll be in the main room down the hall." The stout man adjusted the collar of his all-white suit and waved himself out.

"He didn't ask?"

"I bet he's had to fetch stranger things for other bands before," Bastian shrugged weakly. "Here. Uh, do you need help or anything?" He was blushing and looked completely out of his element. Elly managed to giggle faintly at his sudden shyness.

"No, dear. All I have to do is pee on a stick." He blinked at this and she left him standing at the bathroom door with that dazed look on his face as she opened the bag to take the test. Her stomach felt tight and strange with anticipation, though she knew the chances of her being pregnant were slim. They weren't married, for one, and the papers would be all over that. She knew her man well enough to know Bastian would propose instantly and everything would seem to be solved. But it would be too fast. She'd always wanted to get married first, have some time to enjoy that. Many months ago he had promised to hold back and take things as slowly as he could for her. This would ruin their liesurely courtship, and she wasn't sure she wanted that.

"Ugh." She grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on the toilet seat. She'd done one of these damned tests before and no one had ever suggested to her any better way than to shove it underneath you. It was messy and she always hated pee tests because her legs weren't strong enough to hold her in that odd position long enough. She drew the thing back out and shook it partially dry, mind racing aimlessly. Bastian had become a necessary part of her life, something she couldn't live without. In a few seconds she'd know if there would be complications to their relationship, complications that would change it forever. She wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but she felt queasy again. Elly had started to wonder what their children might look like when she saw the little negative sign in the test window.

"Phew." She breathed a sigh of relief and sat trembling on the edge of the bath tub.

"...can I come in?" Bastian's voice was very soft and light. He poked his head in the cracked doorway.

"You could've before," she told him. "It's all right, I'm not pregnant."

"Oh." He paused. "Good." Then he seemed to think harder and frowned, his thin eyebrows drawing down. "Wait - then it means you're sick and we don't know why. Shouldn't you go to a doctor?"

"One more day," she told him seriously. "I'm sure it was the burgers now, so I won't touch any more of them. If it doesn't clear up by then we'll have Em find us someone."

"Okay." He took her by the hand and led her gently back towards the bedroom. "Lay down. I'm sorry I freaked, I know I probably made everything worse. I just... you know."

"S'all right." Elly was already getting sleepy. Being sick and then all that fuss really had knocked her right out. Good thing there wasn't anything special happening tonight. She climbed into bed without any urging and sighed pleasantly when he laid down beside her and gently stroked her eyelids closed. "You could go."

"Now, you know better than that," Bastian chided her. "You're sick. I won't leave you. Just lay there and try to get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, even if it's a feel-better kiss." He stretched a long leg out and grabbed for the newspaper by the side of the bed.

"Love you," was her muffled reply as she snuggled into the soft pillow. He ruffled her gray hair fondly and settled down to read as she dozed off. When her regular breathing told him she had finally fallen asleep he sighed and set the paper down.

"It wouldn't have been that bad, though," he whispered softly to the open air, eyes distant. "Not at all."

Elly remembered not so long ago when she had stared with love at Surlaw as he stood at the mic stand and sang. He had been singing for her, alone, though the crowd of fans had been going crazy in the audience. When you were onstage the crowd was blurry at best, the lighting harsh and making it almost impossible to see single faces. Back then she couldn't have known what would have happened and that she would be getting serenaded by a different young man. A very different man and very different feelings that went with him. Bastian sang the song 'Unrequited', the piece he'd written while she was with Surlaw and he'd been so much in love with her but unable to do anything but express his desires in music. His throbbing voice soared effortlessly into range, smoothly climbing into register with false hope and then dropping to a low sobbing purr as he recalled what it had been like for him without her in his life. Elly sighed and brought her attention back to the simple guitar chords for the piece. It had almost been as if the bass player had known she wasn't good and had deliberately created a simple song she could play while he sang.

"Of course I did," he panted, a little out of breath when she asked him about it backstage. "You just realized that?" The crowd was still cheering faintly and they were being ushered quickly out to a limo waiting for them this time. Surlaw had complained about the hour-long wait they'd had at that one venue (and the mob that had assailed them) so now they were always driven off before the fans departed.

"Let's go let's gooooo!" The Joker was literally jumping up and down behind them. Surlaw brought up the rear. He walked slowly, shaking his head at Julian's antics.

"Budge up, Julie," he grumbled. "I can't move around with you leaping all over the bloody place in front of me." He finger-combed his bushy chops and blew an aggravated kind of puff out from between his clenched teeth when the lanky man stared at him blankly for a minute.

"Wha? Oh, sorry." The drummer moved to one side, trembling with nervous excitement. "Didja see that? We got a limo! Awright!"

"About time, too, after I bloody well had to rip into those people..."

"Surlaw!" Bastian was waving at him from the front. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. It's here now, we're cool." He had stepped to one side of the driver to let Elly in first and then he grinned at the rest of the band before sliding in next to her.

"Dumbass." The big guitarist didn't protest when Julian leaped inside first. He nodded to the man holding the door as he stepped in. "Thanks."

"No problem, sir," the driver murmured. Surlaw sat down and yawned hugely, stretching as far as the dark vehicle's roof allowed. He looked around only after he'd managed to crack his aching shoulder. Julie was gleefully raiding the stocked fridge and exclaiming over the assortment of alcohol. Bastian and Elly were sitting together, his arms about her while she struggled not to giggle at his attentions.

"Damn it all!" He coughed. "You don't hafta get off while we're around, do you?" His accent was thick, a sure sign he was pissy. Bastian raised his head from his girl's neck, face red with embarrassment.

"Surlaw! I was only..."

"It means make out, not that," Julian muttered.

"That's enough." The guitarist held a bottle of beer under Bastian's nose, knowing full well the man didn't like to drink. Bastian thrust his lower lip out and defiantly took it from his friend.

"Fuck, Surlaw, I was only being affectionate."

"Shh, Bast," Elly whispered. He glanced sideways at her and his blue eyes narrowed. Sighing angrily he handed her the beer.

"Yeah, all right. Open this for me?"

"You're going to drink?" The question was startled out of Elly and Julie in shock. Surlaw chuckled with amusement.

"Seen you drink only once before - what the hell, at that after party that one time." The big man's green eyes clouded over as he remembered he'd been with Elly then. Bastian's eyes darkened as well as he recalled what he'd done that night when he'd been out of his head. He grimaced and took the cold bottle anyway, steeling himself like he was about to drink poison.

"You don't have to, you know." Elly touched his sweaty neck briefly.

"It's all there is to drink!" He smiled at her. "Besides, I have you now. Remember what happens?"

"Bottoms up!" Julian was laying at their feet instead of on the seat where he belonged, upending an entire bottle of champagne. He'd popped the cork much softer than last time with his new found experience and was sorting as the foam dripped onto his face, smearing the makeup.

"Julie!" Elly started to laugh. "You're making a mess!"

"It cleans up, trust me, I got it on a lot of my shirts and it always washes off." He continued to try and get most of it into his mouth without touching the bottle to his lips.

"Sod it," Surlaw muttered to himself with a wry smile. He'd been dry for some time now but a limousine was a special occasion. They had started to rank higher and higher up and he was sure after time rides like this would get commonplace. The first time, though... "Toss me something."

"Anything?" Julian poked his head up.

"Yeah, just be quick about it." He caught the bottle deftly in midair and popped the cap with his teeth, causing Bastian to wince. The limo drove on while they drank and talked about various things, winding around traffic and finally depositing the band at their hotel. Surlaw groaned as he unfolded himself out of the long car, blinking at the glittering light bulbs at the entrance. Julian poked his head out and promptly fell, rolling over on the asphalt and cursing a little under his breath.

"Ouch, hey, what gives?"

"Sorry, Julie." Bastian lurched out with Elly directly behind him. She appeared to be holding him up.

"We look really nice," she commented sourly as they walked forward. "A typical bunch of drunken musicians, right?"

"Who's drunk?" Surlaw sniggered when he saw Bastian blinking owlishly at him in confusion. The man had a firm hold around the singer and appeared to be trying to stick his hand in the pocket of her pants. "Aside from him, I mean."

"Knock it off," she growled at him. Elly wasn't in a good mood. Her man had some serious issues with holding his alcohol and she knew what he got like after he was wasted, too. She had about five seconds to get him into the suite they'd been assigned to before he was all over her. Surlaw had been teasing him the whole time about his inability to drink and had been the cause of all this in her mind. "He doesn't hold anything past two beers and you pushed him into drinking five, of course he'd gonna be out of his head."

"Me?" He smiled sweetly and dropped her a wink, much like old times.

"Ahhhh, forget it. Help me with him, then. I see Em waving us into the elevator." Elly sighed with relief as the stronger man grasped Bastian's arm and firmly hauled him into a more or less upright position.

"What the hell, Wolf." Bast's knees buckled just as he was about to protest and he nodded somewhat to himself. "Yes, okay, some help appreciated." He spoke slowly and clearly, obviously trying not to slur his words. Julian had dusted himself off and he took his friend's other side, waving Elly off.

"We got 'im, it's okay." He paused as they bundled everyone into the elevator. "He's heavy for a skinny little shit... hey, you know that?"

"M'not skinny," Bastian protested.

"Muscle weighs more," Elly tossed off angrily. She took the key card from Em and thanked him, adding an apology for Bastian. "We don't do this a lot, you know, like I've heard some other bands do."

"I understand completely," Emory told her. "No, I see it in your face - don't believe me, eh?" He waggled a pudgy finger at her. "Your band mates have behaved more professionally than most others I've worked with. No outright demands, no wild parties. But you're human, too... and why can't you have a little fun once in awhile?" He beamed at her when she hugged him briefly in gratitude.

"Thanks again, Em." The boys had carted Bastian to the door of their suite and she ran to catch up with them. She opened the door and smiled when she saw that their assistant had already carried their things up and laid the extra key on the table in the middle of the sitting room.

"Where do you want him?"

"I can walk," Bastian pouted. "Let me go."

"Yeah, I'll take it from here. Thanks," she called after them. "Seeya tomorrow!" Julie and Surlaw waved over their shoulders. The door snicked shut and she turned to her boyfriend, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth as she braced herself. He came at her with a swiftness that belied his drunken state, hurling himself into her arms and covering her face with kisses.

"I hope they don't have the rooms next to us," Elly gasped as he pressed her down on the carpet right where they were. Unfortunately, Surlaw did have the room directly next to theirs and he immediately rushed towards the bathroom and turned the shower on to drown out any noise that he might have imagined he heard. His face was burning.

"Who's the dumbass now," he mumbled bitterly.

"WHAT." Surlaw crushed the plastic cup he'd been holding under the tap. The half-filled cup crinkled and splashed water everywhere. He danced back nimbly, swearing as droplets flew out at his checkered silk shirt.

"Keep your voice down," Bastian hissed.

"She's not here," Julian looked down from the balcony. "She just went out the building. Said she was going out."

"I'm not taking any chances with this. She's gone completely?"

"Yeah," Julian nodded.

"We've got only so much time to practice," Surlaw rushed out. He turned back to the sink, swiping half-heartedly at the fallen liquid on the counter with his hand. Some of it poured back into the sink and he busied himself with filling a new cup.

"So? I've sent out for a pianist and my friend's promised to play bass. I gave you that sheet music after we talked at her birthday party months ago. You know that."

"Damn it," Surlaw snarled. He gripped the counter even harder and bent over the sink. "I know, I fucking know."

"Then I'll let her in that we're practicing something that's a little more difficult than she can handle. She won't question it, and she won't push to know what it is - especially if you're going along with it." He stopped and looked square in the big man's face.

Julian winced.

"Me." Surlaw half-turned, his bushy eyebrows drawing down. His face was shadowed under the fedora he always wore but Bastian saw curiosity in his eyes.

"Yeah, you. Plus I gotta know if you're cool with it."

Julian cringed. He slunk around to the couch, ready to use it as a barricade if things got ugly. To his surprise the guitarist laughed roughly and walked away from them both towards the sliding door and went out to the railing. He stared down at the street for some time.

"You're pushing it," the Joker told his friend.

"Not sure," Bastian admitted. "He's better now. And I'm gonna do it, Julie. He's got to either help or do nothing, which'll probably hurt her - she still loves him, in a way. Like, best friends." He flopped down on the couch, flinging a long leg over the side and shading his eyes with one hand as he said the last.

"She does?" Bastian jerked his hand back and stared up at his former rival as he spoke numbly. He'd come back from the balcony and was staring thoughtfully at him. "I thought you were her best friend now." He pointed accusingly at the bassist.

"I'm her boyfriend. Different rules apply." He made a face. "Are you in?"

"Do I have a choice?" Surlaw smiled crookedly, his green eyes looking tired, much older in his young face.

"Always got a choice," Julian piped up surprisingly. "It's like, between the devil and the deep, yanno? You don't do it, she'll be sad. You do it, you'll be sad. But she'll be happy."

Elly strolled around in the adjacent gardens by the hotel they were staying at. The grounds keeper had done a marvelous job of creating an atmosphere where travelers could relax instead of looking out at pavement and cars, or, worse yet, an interstate or some giant road. Emory had chosen well when he'd booked them their rooms. When the guys had told her they wanted to have a talk without her she'd thought something was wrong but Bastian had shook his head once, gravely. He knew how to handle Surlaw now, and besides, her old friend knew that if he tried to hurt Bast again she would sever all ties with him no matter what.

She sat down on an iron bench and crossed her legs demurely. For once the singer was wearing a skirt of all things, a rarity for her but the warm air was sweet-smelling and it felt good on her skin. She'd only been sitting there for several minutes before she heard a low voice singing something off one of the balconies above. The soft strumming of a guitar accompanied him. Elly knew the voice, of course, but little did he think she was sitting there listening. The wind ruffled her short gray hair as she bit her lip. He was singing very softly in a hushed tone but the words floated down and besides, she knew the song.

"I never knew he liked Micheal Bolton," Bastian said quietly to her left. Elly jumped and swallowed hard past her tears. "It's okay, here." He handed her a tissue from his shirt pocket.

"Geez, what were you guys talking about?"

"Just a new song. He got sort of upset because it's one you can't help us with." He said it with just the right amount of indifference.

"Aw. That sucks." She clung gratefully to him as he sat beside her and stroked her hair.

"I know. It's got too hard a bass line and the guitar isn't that easy, either, though. Sorry, love."

"That's all right. I just sing, I don't play well." They both listened to the guitar as Surlaw broke off the last bit in a discordant ripple of sound. "Are we wronging him by loving each other around him?" She wrinkled her nose. "What I meant was..."

"I know what you meant." Bastian held her by the shoulders and stared seriously into her eyes. "Did you behave badly when you guys were together?"

"Wh - no!"

"I was in love with you then," he said softly. "I didn't know it at first, yeah, but I didn't blame you. Deep down he doesn't really blame you, either. If he feels any hate it's directed at me."

"That makes me feel so much better." Elly lowered her eyes.

"C'mon, baby," Bastian soothed in a low tone, touching her face with one gentle hand. "It's all working out. I said I'd make everything better, remember? I promise that I'll never stop trying. You just have to hold on."

"Mmm, yes. You always make me feel better when you're near." She sighed and let him enfold her in a tighter embrace. They sat there until Julian realized where they'd gone and started chucking ice out of the vending machine at them. Bastian scowled, rubbing a hand on his temple where an unusually large chunk had whaled him. He heard Surlaw's whoop of laughter when the drummer launched another one that landed on top of his head.

"Back to normal," he grunted, shaking the ice shards out of his hair. "See? I told you."

"They don't have the only ice machine in there," she hinted suggestively. Bastian's ice-blue eyes widened as he contemplated this. Moments later they were running up the stairs past a few startled guests, whooping outrageously in an attempt to reach some ammo before the others found them again.

Surlaw brought someone back to his suite that night after the concert. She had short hair dyed purple and was dressed in a tank top with scarves around her arms. Her makeup was a slavish impersonation of the lead singer for Zero, but that was all right. Her entire reason for being here was that she dressed and tried her very best to look like another woman. She gawked at the room when he opened the door and he grit his teeth, trying to see what he wanted and not the fact that she was taller than Elly, smelled wrong, and definitely didn't sound like her. He struggled with it, he really did. He wrapped his arms around her and thought of who he wanted to be with. Some of the appearance was all right, and if he just could get past the incidentals...

"Urf!" She clawed at his neck, yanking him close enough for a kiss. Her tongue raped his mouth and he gagged as if it had been a piece of dead meat. Someone was a little too eager and he'd never felt so disgusted with himself. She might look like her but everything was wrong and he knew this was, too.

"I can't," he told her firmly, pushing her back as gently as he could. The soft lighting in the suite reflected off the sequins in his jacket and glared off his sunglasses. He'd come straight here from their last venue after picking this girl completely at random from the crowd of eager fans pushing at the autograph line they'd generously started. Hopefully it was too soon after for the others to be in their rooms yet and they wouldn't hear anything. Hopefully Elly hadn't seen him slipping away with this one, either. He didn't know what he'd been thinking.

"What?! You bring me alla way up here and then..."

"I just can't." He repeated this as if she were a five-year-old rather than a young woman. "I thought I could, all right? Sorry."

"It's true, right? You only took me here 'cause I looked like Elly."

"Don't say her name." Surlaw's face grew dark, his sideburns bristling. There was something wrong with the little tart mouthing off to him. She shouldn't be allowed to speak the name of his girl, no - not anymore -- but he'd always think of her that way. He shook his head, confused. What he'd been about to do had been wrong and he'd stopped himself. He wasn't being a bad guy. She was pissed because she didn't get what she had wanted, though, and her voice rose in an unlovely cadence that he was sure everyone in the other suites could hear.

"What? I'm not good enough to fuck? Even if I'm dressed up like her?"

"I said be quiet!" He whirled around, green eyes blazing. "I'm trying to do the right thing, damn it, and that's not screwing around just because some desperate fan wants to get laid!" He took the opportunity of her squawk of rage to push her bodily out the door.

"You're not a very nice guy!" She shouted after him. Surlaw ducked as she made to throw her purse at him but she changed her mind.

"I could've been worse!" He pointed at the elevator. "Use it. Now." He closed the door with a bang and sat his back against it, seething. He was waiting to see if any of the band was close enough to have heard or dared to come see what had happened, but no one did. After a few minutes he locked the door securely and went to go lay down. He didn't sleep, however. The girl's words echoed in his head all that night until he smiled bitterly around 2 am, got up and sat at the edge of the bed with his head in his shaking hands. He thought of Elly (asleep with Bastian, a grim thought but true nonetheless) in the room next to his. Had she heard the girl yelling at him? If she hadn't been near, then had the little whore run all the way back and told everyone what had happened?

You're not a very nice guy!

"I'm trying," he groaned. "I'm trying."

Bastian was idly turning the leather in his hands, staring at the wall while his girl showered. This was a day of rest for them, one of few in the hectic tour schedule they'd started a couple months ago. Tonight they would be on the road again but for today they could do whatever that wanted. He sighed dreamily. Lately he'd been more excited than usual - putting on a concert really aroused him -- and Chas was always making sure he was dressed in a lovely collar like the one he wore in his hands. The last concert she'd spiced him up with the trench coat and straps again and he'd nearly attacked Elly when they got back to their suite.

They'd never done anything really kinky in the bedroom but he'd found himself growing increasingly obsessed with his love of leather. Bastian had told her he was a submissive that liked bondage, but she'd never asked him more on the subject. He expected she was shy; his beloved had problems with opening up sexually.

"You're going to wear that thing out, Mr. Libache," Elly purred softly into his ear. He jumped guiltily.

"I didn't hear you -"

"I know. Lost in your own little world." She reached out and took the collar from his nerveless hands. "Here, I'll help." She felt him quiver as she snapped the leather in place and then tugged it experimentally.

"Please, babe, you uh, know what that does to me." Bastian shivered with reaction.

"Yep."

"Wh - what?" His icy blue eyes widened comically. He was shirtless, sitting there in only his jeans and she ran her hands around each of his smooth arms, pulling them behind him as she spoke. Her body was fresh out of the clean steam and water and she smelled like soap and the sweet lavender of her perfume. He could feel her bare breasts push against his back and began to breathe faster.

"We've been working on a lot of my problems," she murmured, biting at his earlobe, "and I might be ready to try something new." Bastian choked as she gently restrained him. He was stronger than she was and could break free but that wasn't the point. The point was he wouldn't, he didn't want to.

"Oh my god, oh my god," he gasped hoarsely. "You mean it? You - you remember what we talked about with the colors?"

"Mmm hmm. Yellow for discomfort- " she smiled a little, "like if you have to pee or get an itch. Red for bad pain."

"So whatever else I say...?" He prompted gently. His mind felt like it was on fire, his body only slightly less. This was his ultimate fantasy and he'd dreamt of it for more than a year and a half. He was also so proud of her he thought he might burst. She'd gotten past many mental demons to even suggest they try this.

"I don't stop. Unless you say 'yellow' or 'red'."

"If you want to stop at any time it's fine by me, too. Don't worry about me, baby. I mean it." He twisted himself around to stare in her eyes. "Promise? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. If I start taking you in a direction you don't wanna go, tell me."

"It's okay. I love you, Bast." She kissed him briefly on the cheek, somehow more touching than a full kiss right then. He sighed gustily.

"I'm glad we worked on my little problem, too," he coughed. "Because I swear if this had been a month ago I'd have come right then."

"Bastian!"

"You know you could talk me into an orgasm, baby." His eyes were very sincere. A smile quirked around the corners of his full lips, though, and she saw that he did mean it but he was teasing her.

"I'll get you for that," she threatened.

"Oooh. Just let me roll over by the headboard!" She giggled but he really did wriggle up and stretch his arms out experimentally. "Is it okay if I was tied like this?"

"With what?"

"I have two silk ties in the ...there," he pointed with his bare foot at the dark blue suitcase on the floor. "The pocket," he clarified when she snapped it open. Elly bent and he closed his eyes briefly, dizzy with desire and excitement.

"How do I do this, though?"

"Here. Loop it like this," he showed her. "I can't pull my way out of it if I tug really hard and it's a double layer that's easier on the skin." She gulped and tied his right wrist to the solid wood, then his left, trying not to make the knots too hard. Bastian shuddered when he yanked on them experimentally and found he couldn't get free (and the headboard held). "There's enough slack so I can, uh, turn around too if you want."

"All right?" She sounded uncertain now but her eyes were also on him in that way he loved, the way she watched him when she wanted him, wanted to please him. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The collar felt snugly delicious around his throat and the air felt good on his bare chest. The necklace he always wore slipped to one side and he licked his lips, trying to think of something to say. He was completely shocked when she leaned forward and nibbled on the collar with her teeth, pulling it a little.

"Oh," he managed, feeling inane but not being able to help it. His cheeks burned bright red and his jeans felt two sizes too small. When Elly bent her head down and closed her teeth on one of his flat male nipples he squeaked pathetically.

"What's the matter, Bast?" She chuckled throatily. "I've never heard you speechless before in bed." His mouth dropped open and he took a deep breath. This was what he'd wanted, he needed to let himself go and enjoy it. Now that he was in this situation, though, he was slightly worried that she might see it as disgusting.

"Little worried you might think I'm... I don't know, silly." He panted harder when she lapped soothingly at the bite.

"That's my problem, feeling like I'm silly all the time," she said reprovingly. "Not yours. Relax and do what you want."

"Yes, my love," he whispered meekly. The tension went out of his body as he rolled his neck back, eyes closed again. When Elly moved along and bit down on the other crinkled nub of flesh he let out a low whine. When her hand simultaneously pinched his other nipple, so recently made tender by the previous bite at the same time, however, he jerked underneath her. "Oh, god, it hurts," he moaned in a syrupy voice.

"That little tickle? You're lying." She nipped harder and he gasped, his chest heaving. She watched his feather tattoos dance as he struggled for air. "Lying makes you a very bad boy, Bastian."

"Oh my god," he choked. His face was bright red across the bridge of his nose down to his neck now, his glorious seawater eyes squeezed shut with small tears squeezing out from the corners. Her nails scraped idly down his belly and he hissed, twisting to one side on the bed.

"Aw, did I tickle you? Poor baby. I'll fix it." A single nail traced a line down to his pants, harder than before and leaving a thin red mark in its wake. Bastian's abdomen jumped and twitched crazily under her touch. "Hmm. What was I saying," she mused softly to herself. In reality, she was pausing to get herself under control. Her boyfriend's obvious reaction to this kind of play was mesmerizing and she took everything in carefully, finding it was easier to get into it because he loved it so much.

"You said I lied," he told her in a tiny voice. It was adorable, almost like the little boy she'd accused him of being. He pouted, his lower lip thrust out, and opened his eyes to gaze into her own. The lust she found there was nothing short of amazing. He urged her to go on, pleaded at her with his intense stare.

"I did, didn't I?"

"Yes." He actually sniffled. Elly's own eyes widened.

"Well, you did." She pointed at his chest. "That didn't hurt." She pointed at him commandingly. "You said you could turn around. Do it." Bastian immediately flipped himself, pressing with his thighs to spin about so his back was facing her as he bent forward on his knees. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the fast way she'd been obeyed as she reached down beside their bed for the small magazine he'd been reading the other day. She rolled it up and tapped it experimentally on the mattress once or twice.

"Wh - what are you doing?" He whimpered.

"Hush," she said almost absently and thwapped him on his ass. "Hmmm... too much defense there. These have to go." She ran a hand around his front and slowly unzipped his pants as he trembled and pulled futilely at the ties that bound him. "Now, stop that - raise up a little." He did, and she pulled the jeans off with a certain amount of difficulty.

"Don't hit me."

"Don't make it worse," she chided. "You've been naughty, and that means you need a spanking." She heard him suck in the air between his teeth and he semi-collapsed against the headboard, sobbing faintly. Damn. She traced his silk-clad behind with the magazine and pursed her lips before cracking him as hard as she dared. His reaction was electrifying. He struggled harder, his head hung down, muscles on his his back surging. The thick scar rippled as he moved and she watched, fascinated, as she paddled him.

"Please, stop," he begged shamelessly. "No... no." Elly noticed he was spreading his legs slightly, arching his back as well to bring his body closer to her even as he said it. Naughty boy, indeed. She shook her head in amazement, smiling, and slowly peeled his boxers off. His normally pale skin was blushed with red where she had hit him and she cooed with dismay, kissing it. Bastian gurgled faintly. His rigid, flushed member was dripping with excitement. Never had he needed sexual release so badly and he reveled in it, sighing and clenching his fists. His hair hung down over his eyes and he shook his head impatiently.

He wasn't paying attention so her action caught him by complete surprise. She squeezed him from behind suddenly, her hand gripping him tightly while her other cradled his balls. He saw spots for a moment as he forgot to breathe and then everything rushed out of him at once as he strained to thrust forward, gasping. His necklace bounced on his pale chest as he moved, flickering in the soft lamp light.

"Shhh, it's okay," she murmured. She knew he wanted this to be as harsh as the play had been so she was brutal, tugging roughly on his erection and biting his shoulder from behind as her name broke from his lips in an almost endless litany. The bite was what did it; he surged forward, crying, shaking as thick ropes of milky semen shot from him to hit the sheets. He coughed a bit, gasped, then dribbled more as she tickled him below, urging all of it out.

"Oh god, baby, oh my god." It was all he could say. She carefully untied him and rubbed gingerly at his wrists where there were little red rashes. Bastian was too exhausted but one look into her dark eyes as he flopped onto his back told him everything was all right. She'd done all of this for him, because she loved him. He bit his lip and burst into tears, clinging to her when finished placing the soiled pillow on the floor beside them and kissing her over and over again. She loved him. She still loved him. He hadn't realized but he'd been half-afraid Elly would have thought he was dirty when he let himself open to her this way. But she was kissing him - smiling, even, and holding him tight.

"It's okay, Bastian! Geez, was it that good?"

"You have no idea," he mumbled sleepily into her chest. "Later," he assured her, pulling her down for a nap with him, "I'll take care of you. Always," he huzzed as he began to fall asleep, "take care of you." Elly smiled at him, touching his face fondly with one hand.

"I know," she said softly. "But I get to take care of you, too."

"Where's Julian going?" Bastian asked as they were getting into the bus the next day. He scratched his mop of black hair and smoothed his bangs back down over his left side, frowning a little as the drummer climbed into the other bus. "Is he going to ride with Chas, Em, and the roadies?"

"He said she wanted to talk to him." Elly shrugged as the bus gave a little lurch and started to move. "And you know Julie. He'd do anything to maybe mooch a date off her later."

"But what's she doing? Chas isn't into him that way at all."

"Yeah. She's nosy, though," Elly smiled gently as she described her friend, "and he never opened up to her enough. She thinks she can weedle some info off him this way."

"Good luck," Bastian grunted, settling down as they pulled onto the main road and began to speed up. He reached over and tugged on her arm. "Wolf's asleep. Come cuddle with me, baby."

"Aww, so cute." Elly allowed herself to be persuaded and snuggled close to his side on the cushy seat. He smelled like musky incense as always, that cologne she liked but had never found out what it was called. "You smell good."

"You always say that," he chuckled.

"Well, you do."

"Y'know, I don't know anything about your background, either," he said then, cautiously.

"And all I know about you is that your mom and dad didn't have any other kids."

"Ugh," he made a face and she giggled and touched his lips with one hand. He kissed her finger pads one by one and she smiled. "You'll have to meet them eventually," he sighed.

"I know that sigh, Bastian. There's something wrong with your folks, isn't there?"

"Ah, not really. I just never got along with them." He burrowed a long-fingered hand under her to reach his chest and scratched the thin scar his feather tattoos hid. "They weren't watching me when the dog attacked me and I'd have died if it hadn't been for the neighbors. After that the family never let me forget what happened. No one really liked my parents, even their own sisters and stuff."

"Oh." Elly pondered this silently for awhile.

"You don't have parents, do you, love?" He tickled her cheek, tracing patterns on the smooth, makeup-free skin. "I know that much. Everyone knows you were adopted."

"Mmm, yeah." She closed her eyes as he gently slipped his hand down to her neck, stroking soothingly. "I was one of those kids that slipped through the cracks, I guess. I never asked but I don't think anyone knows my biological parents. And the adoptive home I went to kind of sucked so I never felt like they were my real folks either."

"My poor baby." He choked past the lump that had formed in his throat. His arms encircled her, bringing her closer so that the top of her head snuggled just under his scruffy chin.

"Pffff, I'm not poor, you doof." She looked sideways at the opulence of their travel bus. "Far from it."

"I don't mean money."

"Neither do I," she murmured. "Listen, love, I legally changed my entire name to 'Elly' because I didn't want to belong to anyone."

"The last name?"

"Yes. But there will come a time that I'll allow my name to change for the last time. When I do, it'll mean much more to me than most girls. I'll actually be starting a family, something I never had." Elly tilted her head back to nuzzle affectionately at the hair on his chin with her lips. She kissed it and he all but purred with contentment.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Oh, that's sweet. You melt me, baby. You really do." His words came out a little forced and she felt him holding back on possibly a hundred things he wanted to say. Knowing his emotionally charged self she thought a little humor was in order before he burst into tears.

"Not all of you," she giggled and Bastian growled in mock chagrin, allowing the conversation to be moved along.

"Don't start."

"With all those hours in front of us while we travel to... hey, this is the Florida trip!" She squealed with glee and wiggled around in his lap until he really couldn't hold her anymore. He dumped her off, laughing, as she struggled to run down the aisle. "Get the fliers out! I'm so excited, didn't Em book us at some neat Disney resort thing?" Bastian sighed as he watched her rummaging through their travel bags. She made him even happier when he saw her like this. He had indeed asked Emory to get them a special room for her with an aquarium wall that she was going to love. It was one of his many surprises for her during the trip, like the roses and the artfully contrived Build-a-Bear session.

He grinned. He couldn't tell who was having more fun this tour! And the band was growing closer together this whole time, an important thing for them all. Chas talking to Julie was another sign that the drummer might open up eventually. Surlaw was looking better every day and interacting with them more and more, save for an occasional slip backwards. Bastian felt that money was the least important thing this tour was bringing them.

"Of course it's helpful," he admitted ruefully to himself when he thought of what everything was costing him. But he didn't mind when he looked at her beaming face when they arrived. The room was a soothing wave of blue, purple and green, liberally decorated with sea-based characters from various cartoons. There was only a strange sort of soft light when Bastian carried her into the bedroom and at first she couldn't quite tell why it was so dark in there when it was daytime. Then he walked fully inside and she gasped.

"Ohhhh, Bastian, it's gorgeous!"

"I thought you'd like it." He sounded pleased as he set her down on the water bed in the middle of the room. One entire wall was a huge aquarium, filled with tropical fish of all shapes and sizes and marvelous swinging sea plants that waved in that carefully crafted undersea realm. Elly rushed over to it and stood, transfixed, counting the different kinds of fish and clapping her hands when a tiny rock lobster peeked out of one of the coral reef structures. Bastian tugged off the thin leather collar he wore and slipped out of his ruffled shirt as well, sighing as he watched her. The money had been well worth it - the others were staying at a 'regular' hotel (much to Julian's dismay) because of the cost. But if everything went well with this trip they might all be able to afford staying at places like this next time without so much as a wince. It had taken a chunk out of his wallet, sure, but he was more well off than anyone knew. He'd been saving his money since he'd been playing as an understudy before he'd joined Mister Zero and it had become a huge success. Now he had the sales from his songs and their trips and tours supplementing that income he'd squirreled away for years.

"Are you always thinking of me?" She spun around to face him and he was touched to see tears in her eyes. He went quickly to his girlfriend and held her tight.

"Pretty much, yes," he said.

"I suppose you're going to tell me..."

"That we have passes for Sea World the day after our concert?" He reached into his pocket and spread two out like a dealer's hand. "Why, I do believe you're right." He chuckled when she slapped lightly at his chest.

"My god, sweetie, you're too much." She squeezed him so tight he jokingly let out a wheeze.

"Oops, almost forgot," he bent down a ways to whisper lightly in her ear, "We never settled up after my spanking. I mean to make up for that... now, if possible." One of his hands slipped down her back to pat suggestively on her bottom. Elly trembled and he smiled. He knew he had her but he wanted to make sure this was as special as his attention had been that day. "What would you like?"

"Uh oh," she murmured. She had a problem with telling him explicitly what she desired. They'd been working on this as well as her feeling that she was too greedy in the bedroom. Bastian was still amazed that she'd been told that at one point but he'd slowly eased her into asking for special favors, never scolded her if she urged him for more sex or begged for anything. It was his pleasure, after all, as well as hers.

"Take it easy," he hushed. "I won't say no. You're not being demanding; I want to please you, baby."

"I..." She paused and grew limp in his arms as he nibbled on her neck. "I feel silly, but, can you let everything out? Like when you start talking to me and it's romantic." She frowned. "Well, you're always romantic, I mean. But, um, you know what I'm talking about?"

"The stuff that I embarrass myself with when I go too long?" He sounded surprised. "But that's easy!" He laughed out loud when she huffed and gave him a dry little glare.

"I love it when you do that," she admitted shyly. "You're all soft and gentle and everything I want." She sighed tremulously and Bastian hummed with pleasure as her body molded against his.

"Ah, I know now." He picked her up again and set her down very lightly on the water bed. They both knew by experience how difficult it was to get into one of those. He sat on the edge to take his shoes off and the ripple caused Elly to giggle nervously and slap her hand on the mattress.

"You know, what?"

"What you want." He laid his boots neatly together and braved the dangerous waves of the bed to crawl over her, his expression soft and loving.

"Really," she breathed, her hands reaching for him. He let himself he pulled down and kissed her once, brushing his lips on hers.

"Yes. Really." He tapped his fingers on the lips he'd just kissed. "Even though I shower you with love and affection you want reassurance. You haven't had anyone show you they care, or if they did, it wasn't lavish enough. You get afraid, baby," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "But I'm not going anywhere. And any time you need me to tell you that I won't mind sitting down and saying that I love you. I need you." He kissed her again.

"I'm -" She faltered and he cut her off with a light lick. He knew what was next; she'd apologize. She didn't have to, and he wouldn't let her.

"Would you like another kiss?" His warm breath puffed past her lips when he began whispering to her, speaking into her mouth as he briefly pressed against it. "Maybe another, because I don't want to stop when I start..." She swallowed, her throat clicking as her hands tightened around his neck. Bastian didn't smile, he kept his face calm and his eyes half-lidded with passion but his heart began to race. He'd always spoken slightingly of his ability to gush cheesy-sounding lines out at will but it was how his mind worked. He really did have the soul of a poet - a bad one, he readily admitted to himself -- but a poet at that. He could hardly believe she liked it this much but her body was moving with his, responding to the flow of his words and the tone he was using: silky and low, almost like when he sang a love song. But then again that's what he was doing, wasn't he? That's why it was so easy...

It was much later and he was languorously stretching his nude body on the bed while she cleaned herself up in the bathroom. He yawned and glanced at the clock on the night stand.

"Are you hungry, babe?"

"H'what?"

"Hungry," he said again as she appeared in the doorway fussing with her hair. He smiled. "I guess so, since you got dressed again."

"I'm starving. Where are we going to go eat? Are the others coming?"

"You can thank being a celebrity and me for the reservations I made several weeks ago," he chuckled as he pulled on his socks. "I got us a table at the best seafood place here. Just us. It was easier to get it for two than four."

"Do they know?"

"Oh, my yes." He pulled his shirt over his head and buttoned the front quickly.

"Should I wear something else? Will they seat us fast and in an out of the way place?"

"No, yes, and yes." He dusted the front of his slacks off and gestured to her. "Shall we go?"

"I can't wait! You keep outdoing yourself. I mean, really. What can you possibly do to top anything like this off."

"You'll see," he said with a mysterious little smile.

"Man, he's all fun and games on the outside but try and get him to open up and bam!" Chastity slapped a hand on the back of the booth they were sitting in. "Clam's up tighter than one of these damned muscles." She frowned as she found another that hadn't opened.

"Aw, not another one," Elly groaned.

"Maybe we should've ordered something else."

"No way! I love these platters. I have to have fresh clams, fish, and muscles every so often or I get cranky." Elly pried open a cherry stone clam and dipped the gooey little body in melted butter.

"Is that the reason?" Chas tittered when her friend blew a raspberry.

"Yeah. Probably is!" They ate in silence for awhile, enjoying the food and the scenery. The little boardwalk bar they had found was out of the way enough so that the crowd was thin. That made it fairly safe for Elly to take off her hat and glasses and relax. She was enjoying herself because she hated to try and hide who she was. The singer preferred scenes and celebrity to cramming a baseball cap tightly over her head and dark shades to hide her face even more. Sometimes she wondered gloomily if it didn't tip people off more. Bastian had recently gotten her a t-shirt that read 'Witness Protection Program' on the front with 'You Don't Know Me' written in smaller letters underneath. She'd chuckled - it had been a good joke -- but sometimes she felt it was true.

"So," Chas said after a time.

"Mmm?"

"I had him on that bus with me the whole ride to Florida and he didn't say anything new!" Elly burst out laughing at her friend's chagrined face.

"I could have told you that. Julie has some problems, and he doesn't like sharing them."

"He told me he was born in Ireland, that much I did get." Chas leaned back and took a sip from her strawberry lemonade and sighed with pleasure. "This is tasty."

"Yep. I don't know too much else, either. He hasn't offered, so I never pushed him."

"Damn," she muttered, slipping a strand of light blond hair behind one ear. "Oh well. Have you heard the latest internet gossip about you and Bastian? It's hilarious. I mean, the tabloids are always fulla crap, but this takes the cake."

"Oh, sheez, what now." Elly snorted. "Last time they had some grainy shot of us with Ricky and they thought we were going out of our way to find another guy for a threesome. They didn't mention they'd taken Rick's girlfriend out of the image."

"Oh, it's better. Some dumbass has this 'fanart' on his website or something. And he says Bastian himself commissioned him to draw all these pictures of you and him having sex and stuff before you two got together."

"The internet," Elly murmured.

"Serious business," Chas chimed in and they both laughed.

"Does anyone take that seriously, though?"

"Oh, there's always idiots that do. There's all these posts on his forum or something and people are getting their fan-panties in bunches because of it."

"Really, Chas, how is he claiming it's Bast? He does go online, but he's always under some assumed name unless he's posting something on our site or Zero's Youtube channel."

"That's the best part." The young blond woman nibbled on a french fry, having set her drink aside for the moment. "He's claiming he has proof but he's not showing anything. Y'know, people gossiped before, but after Bastian joined he like, generates his own gushing. The fans love talking about him, you and him, Surlaw and him... I wonder what it is with that boy."

"You're asking the wrong lady. I'm in love with him, so I think he's everything." Elly laughed softly. "I wonder if they know we don't really care for the most part about those nasty things. Unless our manager tells us we have to take some action we just sit back and worry about the things that really matter."

"Have you seen the latest People magazine?"

"Oh, shit, Chas, you know I hate that thing."

"The corner image has this picture someone took of you and Surlaw hugging. S'posed to be recent and the caption is something like, are you cheating on Bastian." She snorted. "As if."

"It's that celebrity status," Elly said dryly. "Everyone wants to be the first one to see something new and report it, and if not, they make it up. That's why I detest that magazine. That's the one that printed one of those letters that maniac sent me and debated all this shit about whether I really was sleeping with both guys or not."

"Ugh, why did I bring it up. It's always nasty."

"Not always," Elly mused. "Sometimes it's nice to see what fans think of us, if they're being polite. I just don't see why they do it so much, some of them."

"It gives them something to do in their spare time." Chastity shrugged and looked around. The waiter was coming back with Elly's card and he had that "look" on his face she was starting to recognize. "Speaking of fans." She pointed a neatly-manicured nail his way.

"At least he looks like he's going to be quiet." Elly laughed and ran a hand through her spiky gray hair.

"I'll bet he's an autograph man."

"Really? I'm thinking he'll be a photo opportunist."

"How can you tell?"

"He's got that 'I'm reaching into my pocket for my cell-phone' walk." Both women giggled at this until he arrived at their table and set the card down with thanks. His hand came out of the pocket and only produced mints for them like he had everyone else. It seems all he wanted was to tell her he was a big fan. Surprisingly, there were no pleas for anything except he told Elly she was the 'luckiest girl ever'. As he waltzed away with a huge smile on his face Chastity's mouth finally snapped closed.

"Another Bastian fan?"

"Looks like it!"

It was several hours later after one of Mister Zero's last concerts on their tour. Bastian and Elly had retired to the hotel suite they were staying in and scrubbed the combined sweat and makeup off themselves with much relief. They were pretty much left to themselves for the remainder of the night. There had been an after-party again but they'd declined the invite because they needed rest. The after parties were getting a bit tense again anyway, as Surlaw would try and find a lady to hook up with and Elly felt odd trying to shrug off the woman's blazing eyes all night. For some reason all the girls he paired with viewed her as an immediate threat. Elly sighed. Everything was working out but it still felt strange sometimes. It was as if fame had sped up time for them all and she found herself thinking back to when they'd first met Bastian. Had it been so long? She'd mentally counted backwards and shocked herself. They'd been living together for more than a year now. It simply seemed natural, like it had always been that way.

"Things that were meant to be are like that," she murmured, quoting something he had said himself when they'd first started dating. The singer was running her hands through her wet hair, clad in a soft blue robe as she walked into the bedroom. The subject of her thoughts was on the bed flipping through channels and she noticed that he was rubbing absently at one of his shoulders like he had been for the past half an hour or so.

"Hullo, sweet thing." He smiled.

"Roll over, dear." She pointed meaningfully at him.

"What?" He blinked at her, surprised from where he sat at the end of the mattress with the remote in one hand. The large flat screen television was muted, but it didn't matter since he was watching the weather channel.

"Lay down, Bast. And turn that thing off. We'll get to Jersey just fine, even if it does rain or something."

"Yes, dear." Smiling a little at her authoritative manner he clicked the TV off, tossing the remote on the bedside table as he laid down.

"Not that way, silly. On your stomach."

"Huh?" He rolled over obediently enough but craned his neck around to watch her. "What are you planning, babe?"

"You just lay on your tummy and relax," she scolded him, pushing down on his shoulders so he did. "I know your shoulder hurts from all that playing. You've been fiddling with it all night."

"True." Bastian grunted shortly, not resisting much. "I think the strap was too short or something, but I didn't notice when I was playing. I don't know."

"There?" Her probing fingers soon found a sore spot to one side of the evil-looking scar that ran along his back.

"Yeah," he grimaced with pleasure. His back tingled, the blood rushing back into tight muscles when she moved on to another area. Bastian closed his eyes and hummed softly with delight as she continued but after a few moments her warm hands left his skin. "Where you going?" He asked drowsily.

"Your back is getting red," she called out apologetically from the hotel's bathroom. He heard the door close and her footsteps approach, then grow muffled when she stepped onto the rug in the back bedroom. "I just got some lotion to use."

"Mmm. Now I can smell like you."

"You're right. Mine was the only I could find. Don't mind, do you?" She squeezed a thin stripe on her hand and rubbed it about until it was warm enough.

"Mind? A longer massage, now with added lotion effects?" His skin twitched under her touch when she placed a careful palm on him again. "Ah," he groaned as her fingers worked out a particularly tough kink. "Damn, you're good to me."

"Oh, please," she grinned, blowing a wayward strand of gray hair from her cheek. "You spoil me to death. This isn't anything compared to what you do for me, sweetheart." Bastian rumbled happily as she kept massaging.

"Ever did this before? You're good." The pale young man exhaled, breath whistling out of him in a thin little whine. "Too good."

"Just once or twice." Her tone warned him and he dropped the subject, wondering if she was thinking about Surlaw or not. Something had been odd about the way she said it.

"I feel so warm and loosened up now," he smiled. "Thanks, babe." Then he tensed as her fingers ran along his lower back. "Hey! That tickles!"

"You're not so loose here," she laughed.

"And even stiffer below." He blinked when she let out a peal of silvery laughter and then groaned. "I didn't mean that, this time."

"What did you mean?"

"My feet!" He rolled over to face her, propping himself up on his elbows. "Standing on that stage wears me out there s'much as it does you. Besides, I wore chunky platforms tonight. Chas wanted something that fit the trench coat better than the boots."

"You want me to do them, too?"

"I wasn't asking, love."

"I know." She reached out and took hold of one of his feet. "Bastian," she asked then.

"Mmm?"

"Have you ever painted your nails?" His blue eyes were puzzled as he watched her.

"Yeah, but you mean toe nails?" He laughed a little when she wriggled her fingers between his toes to rub the lotion in.

"I have this sudden urge," she began.

"Uh oh!"

"You can show them off when we go to the beach," she grinned.

"Anything but pink," he hedged.

A few doors down Surlaw was laying on his own bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering what would happen when they got to the next state. Funny enough he'd slipped out of the party almost immediately after the couple had, ditching his date and not caring. He'd let Julian entertain her for awhile and the two had more in common than they'd had, anyway.

New Jersey.

It was where they'd met each other, the place where Zero had all began. One more concert before the big one, too. They would be televised for the one in New York and he had a sinking feeling he knew what was going to happen there.

Maybe the bus will break down. He mumbled unintelligibly to himself and rolled over, his wild brown hair sticking up in unlovely bunches. She used to call him a Muppet when that happened, didn't she.

"Buck up," he told himself as he closed his eyes to try and get some sleep. Anything that would halt them to New Jersey and NYC would only delay the inevitable, not stop it. He'd had time to prepare himself. Now all he could do was wait.

His green eyes were dull as he stared at the window at the scenery rushing past. It was raining in New Jersey, a kind of dismal gray wash that seemed to match his mood. Zero had been to many different states and the worst part of it was coming. They were going back to where they had started, where he had first met Elly and the band had begun. Surlaw had slapped a thick coat of neutrality over his emotions in the past several months, a hard shell that he had to repair every time he saw Bastian and Elly holding hands, kissing, walking closely together. Making plans that didn't include him or their drummer, plans that were all about them as a couple.

Julian was cheering someplace behind him and he could hear the distant murmur of Bastian's mellow tenor voice as he was reading off the schedule for tonight. He didn't know where she was and it didn't matter as much anymore. He'd play, he'd sing if need be. He wasn't a good writer like Bastian or Elly was but if he could he'd put his emotions down in song so he didn't have to sing the heart-breaking tunes he'd sang while they had been together. The only good piece was singing the band's theme as they jokingly called it. He'd managed to turn himself into a "Mister Zero" like the song and their name and it mocked him but he liked it. Surlaw smiled faintly and turned around. Elly was running a hand through her gray hair and chatting with Julian about coloring it again. Bastian was sitting beside them with his long legs up on the single table they shared in the common room. He wore the pinstriped slacks he'd taken a liking to lately with a long-sleeved shirt and a vest. Fancy wear for riding in a bus, Surlaw thought dryly. They were slowing to a stop near the casino they'd be playing at and he chuckled when a speed bump in the underground parking lot caused the bassist to fumble for something to grab onto.

"Hey, Wolfy," Elly called out, waving to him. "Bastian says he wants to talk to you guys alone again." She made a face. "I feel so left out when you guys practice that song without me."

"We love ya Els, you're just not a very good guitarist," Julian grinned.

"Or bassist for that matter," she broke into a laugh. Elly knew she couldn't hold her own if they played an intricate song and the group had been practicing that one for some time now while they were on the road. Julian had insisted she not hear it at all so she'd be surprised "like the rest of the crowd" when she finally heard it. She had her suspicions but not that much when she saw Surlaw was willingly helping Bastian with this new piece. She pulled a hat down over her face that had hair pieces falling down from the back and popped a pair of lightly-shaded glasses on. Bastian grinned as he kissed her.

"Thanks," he told her softly. The one argument they'd had so far had been brutal and he was always careful to be grateful when she took precautions in public. He was the one that had stressed the need for her to be safer when she went out and she had concluded that, in the end, he was right.

"Em bought me the hat and glasses," she confessed. "I'll be going with one of the lady security guards, too." She rolled her eyes expressively and called out as she romped out the door. "Behave, guys! I'll be back by two. Plenty of time to get ready for everything."

When she was gone Bastian folded his arms and sighed. "You're perfectly all right for this, guys?" He asked them both but his ice-blue eyes were on Surlaw and they were dead serious. "I'm not trying to poke you with it, but by the time we're in New York..."

"S'cool," Julian shrugged.

"That soon?" Surlaw looked about in dismay. "Isn't that too soon?"

"We've waited too long already," he said firmly. He raised his chin, staring at the scruff that matched his own on Surlaw's face. He still didn't know why the man had grown it. It was ...weird, to say the least. "We've gone through it enough, anyway. We know it by heart, right?"

"Bollocks," the other man grunted. He waved his hand in the air. "No, fuck, all right. Yeah."

"Y'all right, man?" Julian came around to stare at him in concern.

"We've talked about this, guys."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't again." Bastian hedged a little, stepping back to where the practice instruments were. "It's got some tricky parts to it."

"Don't we have everything worked out?" Surlaw frowned.

"Think so," Julian stretched as he looked around the bus. "Hey, is that guy really gonna play bass?"

"I told you, he's a friend of mine," Bastian reminded the green-haired drummer. "He's pretty good, actually. I paid for his tickets and room for a few nights - he's there now seeing the sights and all that. He'll be ready for the biggie."

"Oh shit, that's classic!" Surlaw suddenly burst out laughing.

"What?" He blinked.

"'Biggie' is how kids say 'shit' where I grew up," the British-born Surlaw spluttered through a haze of laughing tears.

"Fuckwad." Bastian snorted good-naturedly.

"It better not be shit!" Julian's eyes were wide.

"I didn't mean shit." The pale young man slapped a hand to his face.

"Quit saying it!" Surlaw couldn't stop cracking up. He raised a bare arm to wipe at his eyes. "Oh, man."

"You ready?" Bastian handed Surlaw his guitar. "I'll do the bass part again, first, and then we'll run it while I sing."

"Sure." He took his instrument and ran a hand idly down the strings. The big man had never played such a hard piece before and doubted he ever would again, but he gave it his everything like he had all those times before. He owed it to them all to play the best he could during the concert.

Couldn't disappoint the audience; he'd never allow that.

Surlaw glanced out the window again before they started and saw with some amazement that the sun had started to peek through the clouds. He'd never thought that would happen.

He loved to sweat under the stage lights, feel them burning on his skin as he flexed his arms and leaned over the pedals of his set. It was as cleansing as the beat of the drums and the roar of the crowd when they finished each piece. It wasn't too taxing, being the drummer for Mister Zero. Julian had found his place in life and he was well aware of how lucky he was. He had the best friends he could hope for and the best job in the world. He'd have liked to share the same amount of fame as his band mates, but the drummer was the odd one out, right? It was a band cliche.

Still true, he reminded himself with a short bark of laughter when he saw the back stage pass holders nearly attacking Bastian and the rest of the group. He sat leisurely in a chair in the small room and waited until someone came shyly up to him.

"I like your outfit," the girl said in a small voice. She was a teenage girl with long black hair. She held out a photo for him to sign and he cheerfully scribbled his name across it. Julian frequently wore ripped, sleeveless tops to even their biggest shows and concerts but this last the makeup artist and stylist had clothed him in suspenders above; nothing else.

"This has to be my favorite too, believe me!" Chastity had speckled and splashed bits of white makeup on his shoulders and the front of his nearly-hairless chest but that was all he wore besides the twin straps of neon green that were clipped onto his torn jeans. Well, that and sneakers that matched the suspenders. The makeup was thick, though, and he was forced to wash it off before they left the arena, sadly watching as it swirled down the drain in the dressing room. They all prepared to leave like they always did but something happened between the time after the fans were led back out and they walked off to the waiting limo. The guitarist motioned off to the side to him. Bastian and Elly walked on, talking quietly with their heads close together. They appeared not to notice.

"What's up." The Joker bounced quickly over to his friend's side.

"Do you think it would be all right if I asked to take Elly out? As friends?" Surlaw tilted his glasses and looked at Julian without the purple haze he usually saw the world through. The drummer's eyebrows raised.

"I guess you wanna catch up on old times?" The big man nodded. "Well, if you're asking me if Bast's gonna be cool with it, he'll be fine. Just do it when he's around so he knows you're on the up 'n up with it."

"Thanks, man." Surlaw clapped him on the back. He flashed him a smile when the smaller man shrugged.

"No prob." He sauntered easily down the hall to the limo where Surlaw was just packing himself in.

"C'mon, Julie, hurry up for chrissake."

"Awright!" Bunching himself, he broke out into a limber sprint and literally leaped through the open door. He began laughing hysterically when he saw the faces of his friends inside. "Oh, shit, guys, you should see yourselves."

"You're going to hurt yourself one of these days, you big ass," Elly said amiably. She reached him a hand and yanked him upright. Surlaw poked him in the belly and he flopped onto the seat next to him. Peering over he saw Bastian was on the far end, rattling bottles around in the mini bar.

"Hey, they did it!" He held up a bottle of strawberry milk in triumph.

"Oh my god," Elly laughed, covering her face with one hand. Surlaw pretended to comfort her, patting her shoulder gently.

"He doesn't have one of those kiddie straws, it could be worse."

"Quit!" The pale young bassist threw his lower lip out in a pout, black hair flopping over the side of his face. "I just like it better than beer, all right?"

"Oh, fuck, Bastian, we all know you cain't handle alcohol. Drink whatever y'want." Julian leaned over slightly. "But if there's somethin' stronger than beer in there I'll have a go at it!"

"I can handle it, she can't handle me afterward!"

"I was wondering..." Surlaw started to ask Bastian what they'd talked about earlier and Julie tuned him out. He knew the younger man would say it was all right. Instead he busied himself with digging around in the fridge to see if there was any rum or anything. He settled for the bottle of wine they'd stored away and had drunk all of it himself by the time the big car pulled up to their destination. Surlaw had drank most of the beer and Elly hadn't touched anything at all. Julian held his alcohol strongly, though, and he was the one that supported Surlaw when he stumbled upon exiting the limo.

"Dude, I'm dying for a smoke," he muttered to himself, looking longingly up where their suites were located. He'd left a couple of packs in his room and had nothing on him.

"Sorry, mate." Surlaw blinked owlishly at him. "I haven't got a fag on me."

"Yeah, I know. You don't smoke s'much anymore. But you sure do drink!" He laughed wildly and then jumped, looking about him. "Hey, what the hell!" Several people on the street cheered at him when he shouted.

"We decided to go to the boardwalk together," Bastian said mildly. "You were so busy you didn't hear." Elly was flushed with excitement. She kept tugging on her boyfriend's arm and trying to get him to move faster.

"We're gonna get recognized." But Julian's face lit up when he smelled the greasy food and heard the sounds of the ocean mixed with the screams and yelling of both young kids and old.

"Nah, there's so many people here we'll be all right. You washed your face off, remember?" Bastian patted the door when it was closed and the limo drove slowly off. Elly was screaming laughter now as Bastian held her off the ground to stop her from running towards the flashing lights of the games of chance.

"All right, babe, cut me some slack! We're going, we're going." He slung her over his shoulder and headed out for the nearest stand. The first had the largest stuffed animal Bastian had ever seen. He blinked up at the thing in amazement and then looked at the game. Elly slipped off his back and hugged him for a moment.

"No way - I wanted that one of those things for years when I lived here." She smiled affectionately up at the plush monster. "They're so hard to get... anyway, I have to go to the ladies room, guys. Be back in a sec." She strode off, hips swinging. Bastian watched her melt into the crowd inside the casino nearby.

"God, what I wouldn't do for her." He paused, grimaced. "I can't throw worth a shit, though."

"Well, I'll give it a shot." Surlaw paid and stood up to the mat but the others giggled as he threw the ball to one side instead of at the heavily weighted jugs he was supposed to hit. "Bollocks."

"You wouldn't hit a hole in a ladder when you're punked like that," Julian snickered. "Here, lemme try." He gripped the ball firmly and tensed his arm up, sending it whipping down the cloth pathway to the bottles and neatly knocking all three down.

"Holy crap, Julie!" Bastian's mouth dropped open.

"I use my arms all the time, remember? I'll get her that thing up there she wants, no problem!"

"Elly's going to be ecstatic." Bastian elbowed Surlaw in his side. The big man was looking about as if in a daze.

"Sheez, what was in those beers?"

"Beer."

"Ass."

"Definitely not ass." The two bantered back and forth while Julian knocked several more bottles down in a row. He knew where to hit, his throw was wicked fast and hard, enough to almost guarantee a win every time. The barker finally gave up and unhooked the giant dragon from the wall with a long pole. Several kids nearby breathed in awe as it came down. No one really ever expected to win one of those things, and to see one being distributed was exciting. Elly came out of the casino nearby shaking her hands dry and stopped short when she saw Bastian struggling under the thing.

"Yeeee!" She let out an inarticulate squeal and tackled him, stuffed animal and all.

"Aw, Christ babe, don't do that, I'll fall! Oh, oh, by the way - it's all Julie's credit. Not mine."

"AH GOD NO -" Julian stumbled backwards as she got him next, her arms slipping around his wiry body to hug him tight. "Damn, y' have a grip, girl!"

"Tell me about it," Surlaw and Bastian said at the same time in almost the same tone of voice. They stepped back, startled, and regarded each other with red faces. The younger man coughed and hefted the big stuffed animal on his back. As he did so there were fresh shrieks from the rides area nearby. Julian's eyes widened and he took off with Surlaw following after a brief shrug at the embarrassed bass player.

"This is so much fun I can't believe it," Elly said. She threw her arms around her boyfriend again. "Let's go find Julie quick, hon - he'll be wanting to go on the biggest ride five times in a row." Bastian checked his watch.

"We've got plenty of time, I told the driver to stop back at the same place around a couple hours or so."

"In a couple of hours he'll be coming down from all the excitement and be asleep. Perfect timing. Did you hear his accent tonight?"

"Yeah. He got way excited and let it slip. He's almost like a little kid, isn't he?" He grunted, shifting the dragon's weight to one side. "Whoop." Someone cheered at him as he did this and he grinned at them.

"He just likes to live life to the max, you know him."

"I hope 'the max' doesn't mean taking us on that thing." What little color he had drained out of Bastian's face as he stared up at the bungee-cord ride. "No way am I doing that!"

Like Julian had known would happen, Bastian hadn't placed any interference in Surlaw going out alone with Elly for the day. The guitarist had been a little amazed at this: after all, he'd beaten the man up over her and had hurt her arm once (without meaning to, surely, but the fact remained). No, they both trusted him and that made Surlaw feel even worse.

"Wolfy? You okay?" Elly's voice was filled with concern.

"Oh. I'm fine." He chuckled. "My mind went someplace for a minute there, l - Els." He stopped himself from calling her 'luv' at the last minute. It had been his pet name for her and was too personal now.

"So why'd you want to come here?" She swept an arm out, indicating the boardwalk, the sea, the casino fronts of Atlantic City. Since neither one of them were gamblers they had opted for a stroll outside.

"I just wanted to go someplace with you. Since we were in Jersey I thought we could, you know. Reminisce."

"That's nice," she sighed and laid a friendly hand on his arm. He smiled faintly and moved his arm gently away to point out the new casino signs.

"They're always changing the fronts, aren't they? That wasn't here when we played last."

"No, it wasn't." She pursed her shining lips, thinking. "Then again the last time we were here was years ago." Elly didn't usually wear makeup but she did like lip gloss. Today she carried one with her in a small purse at her side. She had just re-applied it since the wind from the ocean had started to kick up and he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her when she'd rolled the tube over her lips. Surlaw wondered if it was flavored and he crushed that thought as soon as it floated to the surface. The boardwalk was crowded and the two didn't need to wear much in the way of disguises except different clothing and hats. Surlaw stubbornly clung to his old fedora while Elly wore a baseball cap again. They walked down the long length past the casinos to the mall at the end of the strip.

"So," he said. She sensed something was wrong or that he was holding back and waited patiently. "I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. You're happy, I know." The wind whipped at his hat and he caught the brim irritably.

"Yes," she murmured softly.

"I'm glad." He opened the door for her and they walked into the mall. As they began browsing the store fronts he sighed and looked over at her.

"Still having problems?" It was as close to she could come to asking if he was angry at Bastian, if he still wanted her.

"Nothing I can't handle." Surlaw combed his mutton chops with one hand, raising his eyebrows over the thick shades he almost always wore. I'm trying, he thought desperately. He wanted to tell her he loved her but it didn't matter: she knew. He wanted to say he was sorry again - for everything -- but she knew that, too. He saw it in her dark eyes when he looked down at her. Elly slipped her arm through his and hugged it briefly.

"Let's go in the music store just for kicks," she said impishly.

"Why not?" He picked up the pace and they were soon inside, spending some time picking out their CDs from the shelves and commenting on the cover art. Then Elly spotted the posters and she had to go see if they had any in there of the band. That was good for several minutes of laughing over how they looked in the photos - the shots were made to be provocative for the most part. The second time the singer squealed when they came to a sexy Bastian full body one of the employees headed their way with a slight frown on his face. Surlaw had just flipped the poster display to the next and there was an image of him on one side, perfectly matching his position as he stood in front. The employee's eyes widened.

"Oops," Elly said sheepishly.

A couple hours later the pale young woman was sliding her hotel card key in the slot. She had a small bag by her side filled with some stationary and a long paper tube stuck up out of it as well. The magnetic card unlocked the door and she stepped inside, waving at Surlaw who was also opening his door. Carefully setting the bag and her purse on the table in the main room, she strolled into the bedroom and peeked in. Her boyfriend was reading on the giant bed, naked to the waist and clad in the silk pants he usually wore when he was relaxing.

"Did you have a nice day, babe?" Bastian laid the book he'd been reading on his bare stomach and held his arms out. She went to him smiling and they embraced. "Mmm, I missed you." He inhaled her lavender scent, now mixed with the salty tang of the ocean.

"Could not," she giggled. "We've been glued to the hip during this whole tour."

"That's why I missed you."

"All right," she admitted. "I missed you, too. You'd have loved the music shop in the mall."

"Aw, but then I'd want to buy stuff, and you know..." He shrugged. "I'd rather spend money on other things."

"Like what?"

"You'll see," he said again, like he'd done at least five times in the past week. She sighed in exasperation and headed for the bathroom.

"Promise?"

"Oh, yes. You'll find out in a few days."

Surlaw's hand fell as he watched the door close after her. He slipped inside his own suite and stood with his back to the door, an odd smile playing about his lips.

"Just a few days."

He rushed to the bathroom where he was suddenly and violently sick.

Julian's skinny chest glistened in the pale morning light streaming in through the patio doors in his suite. He stood at the doors for some time, looking at the sky scrapers and other buildings that clawed up towards the reddish-pink sun struggling to rise above them all. New York City.

"Wow," he breathed softly, awed into some silence for the moment. They'd made it. They were going to play at The Garden, a televised event, that night. It was the last concert of the tour and the most special one of them all. Zero had done programs before but this was a nationally broadcast event, something far different than a local show or talk show performance. The drummer was wearing ripped jean shorts with white suspenders; no shirt or shoes since he was inside at the moment. If they went out he'd have to carry a flannel or a hoodie around in case they entered a store or restaurant.

The air was cool on his body as he paced back and forth. He grimaced, his cherubic face wrinkling, cute in his dismay, adorable even though he wore tattered punk clothing. Damn it, damn luck. He was horny as hell, and if he didn't do something about it he'd explode. The Joker could never find a woman that he found attractive that, well, to put it bluntly, could handle him. As soon as he'd voiced his desires in the bedroom they would stare at him with frightened, meek eyes and clam up. The next day was always the same, the usual breakup. He refused to put aside his near obsession for what he liked and he couldn't shut his mouth up enough to let the girls get accustomed to his ways before springing the surprise on them.

"Why doesn't anyone love the drummer." He snorted, throwing himself heavily down on the queen-sized bed. His long, green curls bounced somewhat prettily as he did this, adding to his little-boy features. He hated how he looked and that's partly the reason why he wore so much makeup all the time. He hid his features from himself, the world and especially his family. Julian was exaggerating, of course. He did get fan mail and he always had a date for the after parties and events they went to. But he never settled down with anyone for longer than a few weeks. He shoved an impatient hand down his shorts and grasped himself rather roughly. He only had to conjure up a single image to get his heart racing and he rolled quickly over, yanking his hand back out and fumbling with the buttons. They needed to come off right now. He had business to attend to. His long, strong arm flexed as it reached out for the small leather case at his bedside. Grabbing it with desperate fingers he opened the snaps as his other hand tugged off his shorts. He kicked his legs impatiently, sending them sailing over the end of the mattress, and concentrated on his toys. They were shiny, his pretties, and he admired them for a moment before stroking them gently with a fingertip.

The middle one? No, too thick. He had in mind a tease, a barely-there feeling and the option of dragging things out longer. He slid the metal rod out of the strap that held it and examined it to make sure he'd sterilized it last time. It was gleaming and safe. One more thing, though - he had to lubricate it a bit. The bottle was right in the case and he coated the sound with a tiny amount, just enough, not too much.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

"There." The young man sighed happily and ran a palm down his flat belly, past the trail of red hair to the bushier thatch between his legs. His penis twitched in anticipation, the curved member poking upright yet off to the left like it always did. He hunched over, rod held carefully in one hand and placed the tip on its head. He didn't have to look anymore and the end of the metal slipped partially inside the unusually dilated hole. Julian's green eyes widened and a light gasp whistled out from between his lips. His free hand was stroking himself, lightly, gently, pausing now and then to tickle at the hanging balls underneath that were drawing tight as he moved. Even he didn't know what had drawn him to sounding as a sexual release. Little did he know there was a nasty little memory festering deep in his subconscious that had brought him to this compulsion. Julian had grown up in an abusive religious family and the punishment for slight transgressions had been insane. He'd gone for several days without food once, locked in the punishment closet the Tokker family had rigged as some sort of madman's chapel. This was why he'd thrown up when Elly and the others had rented the movie Carrie, retching in the bathroom while the others waited nervously outside. They had thought he'd eaten a bad burger at the time but the truth was the abuse shown in the movie had struck too close to home.

"Ah, fuck..." He strained and panted, pushing the sound in further, sliding it in before his erection could firm up all the way. A tiny dribble of fluid trickled down his tortured shaft and he moaned tensely.

His didn't remember that his father had caught his young ten-year-old self poking experimentally at the tip of his penis and had immediately reacted. Punishment was swift and severe for the confused boy and he'd screamed in agony when forced to insert things inside himself there for an entire week. And yet, after awhile the pain had gone away. It had felt kind of good because it was the only time he was allowed to touch himself. He'd forgotten about it some weeks later after the original incident but when he left that horrible place and managed to apply for US citizenship he'd found a store. It sold all kinds of things he'd never dreamed of, among which were the pretty little case of rods he owned to this very day. There had been a thin book beside it explaining what they were and he'd glanced at it only briefly before feeling that familiar twitch in his nether region. Blessed relief. The drummer could only touch himself while sounding, he simply couldn't bring himself to completion any other way. He'd tried and every single time had felt shame and guilt back up his throat like bitter bile. His body wouldn't respond no matter what. It could firm up without his touch, or a girl's, but if he tried to masturbate without the sounds he got nowhere fast.

Sweat flew as he strained forward, his tongue lolling wantonly out of his mouth. The sound was fully inserted, the only thing visible the metal pearl of the safety knob at the tip. His eyes squeezed shut he stroked faster, knowing he couldn't finish until the rod was pulled out, wanting it to never end. He lasted a few more frantic strokes before he seized the end and slowly dragged it out. Halfway through he bit back a cry and slid it back in, squealing when semen bubbled up around it as he came. Julian slid the sound out and panted hoarsely while his essence pooled onto the sheets. Some of his green hair had stuck to his sweaty neck and cheeks and as always the sweat concealed the fact that several great tears had trickled down his cheeks at one point.

He'd be relaxed enough for the rest of the day now and able to concentrate on the important concert tonight, for sure. His face brightened as he settled back on his haunches to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling.

A nationwide broadcast. Oh, and there was that other little thing, too. He chuckled as he rolled off the bed to clean himself up.

Awesome.

"Why do I have to be on stage?" Elly frowned as she patted her hands over her sparkling white dress. The thing had so many sequins it felt like a snake skin. "I'm not even in this one. I wish you'd all just tell me what's going on."

"You're in the band," Surlaw reminded her. He was adjusting his tie and staring at his reflection in the mirror. "Anyway, formal wear for the last song was whose idea again?" He patted his barren head. Chas had suggested he wear a top hat but he'd refused. It was strange to see him without anything on his head for a concert. The area where they were performing at The Garden had a classical feel to it. There was a white shining grand piano to one side, a black one on the other and Julian's favorite drum set had been swapped out for one that matched: it was black and white, the band logo bleached out on the bass drum as well.

"It was Bastian's." Julian looked extremely uncomfortable in his finery. "I'd never get caught dead in this monkey suit otherwise."

"It's classy, c'mon guys." Bastian shrugged. He was adjusting the headset he would be singing into for the piece with the help of a fussy technician. The man held up one hand and they all began to file out.

"Where do I go?" Elly glanced around before they went on stage. The set had been altered slightly so that one piano was in the band area. A thin woman sat at it looking relaxed and sure of herself. The singer blinked when she saw a bass player standing where Bastian normally played. "Ricky?" The young man grinned hugely and waved at her. There wasn't enough time for her to piece anything together and that was how they'd planned it. Bastian took her gently by the hand and they walked out to tumultuous applause from the crowd. The mic was on so he didn't speak but simply led her to an old-fashioned looking chair near the front of the stage. Red rose petals and the flowers themselves been strewn thickly about and he bent, picked one up and handed it to her as she sat. Everyone was in place now, and the crowd had gone somewhat silent.

"All my heart, all my time, all my life, all I do... " Bastian sighed and tapped his chest, over his heart. His voice echoed throughout the arena.

"Bast?" Elly was dumbfounded. He was wearing the head mic, not her, so no one heard but one of the cameras was trained on her and everyone could see the pale singer as she spoke his name in confusion.

"Holy shit I'm scared," he admitted with a nervous chuckle. The crowd laughed faintly at this. There were a few loud whistles and some calls encouraging him. Then he turned to peer over at their drummer who sat bouncing on his stool behind them and waving cheerfully. "Julie? Rick." His friend grinned hugely at him from his right. He gave him a thumb's-up. Finally he looked at Surlaw behind the chair where Elly sat.

"Surlaw... yeah, man, peace." Bastian smiled as the bigger man made the sign at him rather gravely. "Thanks. Back me up." He took a deep breath and waited for the piano to begin playing. When the drums kicked in and the rest of the music began he carefully knelt down on one knee before her and waited patiently for the crowd to settle down. They'd discussed the possibility of playing through the first part of the song twice to let the fans quiet before he sang and it proved a good idea. They were silent enough by the second time the drums and guitar began and he raised one trembling hand and started to sing. His rich, throbbing voice rose effortlessly to fill the air with poignant sound.

You might guess the reason behind my bended knee  
I hope it's not a shock to you so much as it is me  
I never thought I'd want someone so badly like I do  
I'll work, I'll sweat, I'll scream, I'll cry ...but only just for you

Others want to die for love, to prove they're brave and bold  
I just did what I had to do through all the pain untold  
And God kept me here 'cause I had things to do  
I know the most important thing is taking care of you

I want to show the world I care  
It doesn't matter who  
But it won't make a difference, babe  
If you don't say "I do"

Tell me the words I want to hear  
The answer I've waited for all these years  
A nod of your head, anything you can do  
To show me you want me as much as I want you

Songs have always been sung as a way to propose  
I know it isn't much but this one's all yours  
You're shaking and blushing, soft red as a rose  
Please tell me yes, don't close off all the doors

I want to show the world I care  
Everyone here, too  
But it won't make a difference, dear  
If you don't say "I do"

Tell me the words I want to hear  
My baby I've loved for all these years  
A nod of your head, anything you can do  
To show me you want me as much as I want you...

By the time the last notes had faded away Elly was wide-eyed and speechless. She'd known he would do something like this but hadn't guessed it would be at a concert in front of all their fans. Bastian was still down on one knee and a stage hand dressed in all dark clothing quickly darted out and handed him an obvious little box. The crowd went completely and amazingly silent except for one little high-pitched shriek as he opened it and held it out to her. The cameras panned in, of course, and a sigh like a vast wave of the sea rippled through the audience filled with some murmuring at the sight of the sparkling ring. Bastian licked his lips and forced out what he didn't need to say - his song had just asked her -- but he did it anyway.

"With this ring lies my only dream of happily ever after." He took her left hand and shakily raised the shining band of white gold set with diamonds. "Please marry me." His ice-water eyes stared earnestly up at her, seeking her response. Elly could only nod as she started to laugh and cry at the same time but she tilted her hand towards him in acceptance. Bastian's smile was like the sun coming up. He slipped the ring on her finger then stood and quickly embraced her. The crowd went completely wild, of course - especially when he bent her backwards and kissed her.

"Enough," she gasped after several long, long moments. "Oh my goodness. Or I'll faint!" A special television camera with attached mic had swooped down to give some scrolling shots and it picked up some of what she'd said. The crowd cheered again - somewhat raucously in the corners -- and she blushed.

"I have you." He picked her up and set her gently on her feet. She wobbled but only for a moment. All the band members came forward to congratulate the couple in a group, the guys patting Bastian's back and everything. Surlaw hung back just enough so that when the crowd parted she saw him there, grinning sheepishly with his guitar still in one leather-clad hand. He set the instrument down and walked forward. Some of the audience faltered - they knew the story between the three -- but the cheering started again when he impulsively embraced his old friend and ex-love. Elly quite clearly saw the tears in his green eyes though he didn't say anything. He sighed and moved slowly and painfully aside for Bastian, thinking this was all rather symbolic and perhaps had been arranged that way. The lean young man picked her up and, laughing loudly in sheer delight, dashed off the stage. The others followed, waving and smiling, even the brown-haired guitarist though his shoulders sagged as if his guitar had suddenly become 50 pounds heavier.

"Remember what I told you when we were at the sushi restaurant a year ago?" Bastian asked as he strode towards the back exit where there was an extra limo waiting for them alone on this night of nights.

"What you told me? We said a lot of things." Elly laid her head on his shoulder. She was still crying and couldn't take her eyes off the ring that meant she was engaged. She couldn't believe it even though she knew he'd been going to do it.

"Hajimete ata tokikara sukidata," he murmured softly. "It means, 'I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you'. I meant it, see, and I never go back on my word." His blue eyes flashed. "Ever."

There was giggling, panting and wriggling under the sheets mixed with some high-pitched shrieks as well, filling the large bedroom suite with happy lover's music. The gigantic bed was bubbling on top as the couple played and cuddled, hidden from view except for the occasional foot or hand that would escape the sea of ivory silk. Clothing was strewn all over the place, a sock was even hanging from one of the lamp shades in an uncommon display of messiness for them. Neither cared.

A long pause followed by soft crying, the soft sounds of kissing. All of these things went on and on and on in Bastian and Elly's room as they celebrated their engagement in privacy. Tomorrow they would be flying back to California, making plans and getting bombarded with interviews and photo sessions and people, people everywhere they turned. It was the price they paid for being celebrities. They knew this. Now was what mattered at the moment, however, and now there was only one man, one woman and the sparkling ring that decorated her finger.

"God, now you're my fiancée." Bastian's face was more than ecstatic. His sea water eyes were glorious, filled with tears and shining proudly. The young man's cheeks were also rosy from his exertions and excitement, a rare thing that caused him to look like he had put blush on his pale features.

"You're mine, too." Elly threw back her head and laughed at the ceiling.

"Nah, you get an extra 'e'."

"What?"

"The spelling is diff-" He shrieked laughter when she tackled him, ripping the sheets out of the way and pushing him down with his head towards the foot of the bed. "No fair! No tickling! Oh god, not the thighs!" Oh, how she loved it when he was tickled. His voice took on a light, effeminate squeal that was simply adorable. She nipped his neck, running her fingertips down his creamy white skin and relenting only when he started to wheeze.

"Sorry, Bast, but you can't know how cute you are." Elly stroked the white forelock off his sweaty forehead while he gasped for air. She felt his muscles flexing under her, looked down and saw his abdomen rippling impressively. "What..?"

"Gotcha!" He sprang up towards her this time, pinning her to the bed and arching his back before pressing tightly against her soft, willing body. "Mmm, mmmm...." He'd buried his face in her neck and was licking the sensitive spot where her pulse throbbed under the skin.

"Whoa, sweetie. You're aggressive tonight," she sighed, closing her eyes and wrapping her legs around his waist. He didn't answer but placed his hands on her legs, pushing gently. "No?" He shook his head, smiling, and took one of her hands in his. While she lay comfortably back he held her hand, palm up, in front of him and slowly sucked on her fingertips until she started to pant. Then he kissed her ring, his tongue slipping out of his mouth as he lowered his eyelids to stare at her hotly. Elly's dark eyes widened as she got the gist of his unspoken suggestion. His hair was covering a good part of one of his eyes and he had rolled his shoulders forward, leaning towards her on top as he knelt between her legs. His skin wrinkled lightly around his lower belly - she envied him his lean body but was madly attracted to it -- and even as she watched he reached down and tugged lightly on his firm erection.

"Yes," he hissed sibilantly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, baby?" Elly squirmed. Bastian wasn't often dominant but he appeared almost a different person now. He sometimes struck deliberate poses and spoke with the intent to arouse her but this was more serious.

"Wow," she gasped. He grinned sheepishly for a moment at her and then reached out and took her right hand in his.

"I can't hold back tonight. I'll make it up to you." He held her hand loosely around his member and began guiding her hand to stroke himself. "First... help me, watch me." He shuddered roughly and leaned forward, eyes closed. When she gripped a little harder his mouth dropped open and he huffed along to her motions. His long-fingered hand never left hers or picked up the pace. Elly heard his gasps and tiny cries and didn't take her eyes off his face as it tightened with pleasure. Bastian's free hand was grasping his hair, pulling it off his face and running through it again and again. A few strands of black drifted down onto the sheets where she would find and fondly play with later.

"You're close, don't hold back," she whispered.

"Ah god. Elly." His thin eyebrows drew down as he grimaced fiercely, and he suddenly opened those clear blue eyes and stared at her so sweetly, so earnestly, that her heart literally skipped a beat. She coughed gently from the light arrhythmia, never taking her eyes off his as his body gave a shivering jerk. It was then and only then that he gently pushed her hand away and held his twitching penis towards his belly, his other hand cupping underneath to catch the flow as it splashed against him and trickled down.

"Ever considerate," she said lightly.

"I don't even like the stuff," he murmured, wincing. "And it comes out of my own body."

"I don't mind, you know." Elly started to tremble when she thought of what he'd been hinting at earlier.

"I know. I'll be back," he promised lovingly, climbing somewhat awkwardly off the bed and heading towards the bathroom. She heard him grumbling something to himself, then the toilet flushed followed by the water running in the sink as he lathered his hands. He was shaking his head ruefully as he walked back to the bed.

"Hard to aim?" She teased.

"You know it." He squared his shoulders. "I managed, though. Now what was I..." He watched her raise her legs a little and smiled. "Oh, yes."

"You're unbelievable," Elly told him as he began kissing the hollow between her breasts. "That little performance play was sexy as hell, love." She had pulled a pillow down for her head and she fussed slightly as he hair side locks got caught underneath. Bastian breathed warm air on her skin and licked tenderly on a taught nipple.

"Mnn, good. Only the best of everything for the soon-to-be Mrs. Libache." He suckled and she caught his head to her, biting her lower lip and making a low sound in the back of her throat. He lavished attention on her chest until she was sobbing softly and then trailed his lips and tongue lower, down her stomach, kissing the bump along the way - she wasn't as skinny as he was and had a little roll of fat -- and then dipping into her navel.

"God, Bastian," she grated. "I'm so wet. I can - I can feel it."

"Oh?" His eyes sparkled with mischief and he ran a finger along her open body, stroking the flaps he called petals and sliding gently inside. She wailed, writhing on the bed. "Yes," he purred. "Yes you are. And I bet you taste like love - like delicious." The pale young man removed his finger and lapped at it while her face flashed hotter and hotter.

"Ohmigod."

"Right," he breathed, bending over her and stroking the brush of gray pubic hair out of the way with gentle fingers. "Tell me what you want as I kiss," he said clearly before his flickering tongue teased the top of her sex. Elly's hands clutched the sheets on either side of her and twisted wildly. Bastian was slowly licking from the top down, then back again, sometimes thrusting a little. His tongue felt like velvet, slick, warm, and long. He was very talented and the niggling tension in her loins was soon a burning, climbing pleasure that peaked when he wanted it to and then would slip away just before she could orgasm. He had her gasping his name in a minute; begging him after several more.

"I love it, I love you, I need it..."

"Yes." He took her hand in his again and ran a finger over the ring. She gasped and glanced down at him to find him staring up at her. "Just relax, baby." She felt movement below and inhaled sharply.

"Bast..."

"Shhh." Bastian had calmly inserted several fingers inside her body and she curled her toes tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. They moved slowly, deeply.

"Oh, oh!"

"Shhhhhhh." He leaned down again to add his tongue, concentrating directly on the sensitive button of flesh he had painstakingly teased into sight. It was swollen with need and he sighed, closed his own eyes and lapped quickly at it, curling his fingers as he thrust. Her scream as she orgasmed was something teenage boys dreamed of and clearly unfeigned. Pleased, her beloved slowed his hand little by little, lapping circles about her pulsing sex to lovingly lengthen her joy.

"Where did you luh-learn that?" She was shaking all over and he gathered her in his arms, being mindful of the hand that needed washing, in concern.

"I read it, but what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I told you I always cry -"

"After a good orgasm, yes. I remember." He glanced at her sideways after picking himself off the bed again for another trip to the bathroom. She was wiping at herself with a tissue before she got up, eyes very soft. She looked content, and a warm glow spread over him as he thought that after they were married he could give her more than he could now. He could give her a family.

"Mmm, move dear. I have to pee." He chuckled and stepped aside as she rushed off in a silly, stiff-legged gait to the toilet. She said he was cute when she tickled him; he thought she was adorable when she did things like that. Oh, to have his entire life with her. He was sniffling in happy, over-dramatic glee as he followed her into the bathroom.

"I can't get on that thing." Bastian was paler than usual, his face ghostly white in the fluorescent lighting of the airport. He clutched Elly's hand tightly as they approached the gate where they would wait until the flight was called. "Why'd we do this again?"

"Because we'll get back faster this way, dear," Elly told him softly. "Ever since you proposed on national television our manager has been swamped with interviews and photo shoots. This way we'll get back home and be able to take care of some of those."

"And we had to take a commercial flight?" He was sweating in the plastic chair, seated sideways and still holding her hand. "I'm going to be sick. I know it. I hate flying." He made a face and held up his free hand, which was shaking violently.

"I didn't know, B-" Elly paused in the middle of saying his name. "Hon," she finished instead. People were already staring at them because he was freaking out. They didn't need someone putting two and two together while he was having a panic attack. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he moaned. "Em said this was the only way, right?"

"Yep. And the flights were all booked except this one." She paused and dabbed at his forehead with a clean tissue. "I hate seeing you this way." She absently scratched the baseball cap she wore, grimacing. "I also hate wearing these things."

"Uh-huh. Once we're on board we can take them off. I might have to." He swallowed hard as an attendant called out some numbers for boarding. Elly checked their tickets and nodded.

"We'd like to board all out special first class members first," the pleasant-faced young lady was saying. "Line up here, and please have your folders ready with the information." She smiled as the singer dragged her fiance up.

"It's us. We get on first as well - Em at least arranged that."

"Do they know?"

"Yep." She winked at him. "They were told to keep it in confidence, though." She grinned as she led him to the attendant and handed her the passes which contained their tickets and driver's licenses. She checked them, her eyes widening, and handed them back with a larger-than-usual smile.

"Does Mr. Libache have a problem with flying?" she asked in a lower tone that the rest of the passengers milling around couldn't hear. Elly nodded. "All right. Millie will get you seated -" she indicated a plump, older woman standing at the entrance to the ramp -- "and we'll do what we can to get you settled."

"Don't have a problem," Bastian said faintly as they walked up the ramp. "I panic as soon as the plane goes up. That's all." He tried to take deep breaths and managed to keep himself under a certain amount of control until they got seated. The young musician didn't even notice what Elly was doing, only that she was next to him. He snatched the cap off his head and fanned himself with it.

"Bastian," she said soothingly, "It'll be fine. I'm right here. I won't even go to the bathroom if you don't want me to." She ran a hand through her short gray hair, relieved to get the hat off at last.

"Thanks," he grinned weakly.

"Besides, we'll be distracted. Here come the passengers." She chuckled as the first came up the runway and froze. A teenage girl was staring at them both with her mouth wide open.

"OH MY GOD, MOM," she gasped.

"See?"

"Uh huh." Bastian waved weakly as the mom pushed her stunned daughter down the aisle to their seats. "Just don't let go of my hand, all right?"

"Promise." She leaned over and kissed his cold cheek. "Why don't you think about what - and if, actually -- you're going to tell your family? They have to be there for the wedding, don't they?"

"I won't forget them," he groaned. "You're going to have to meet my mom at least." His pale brow creased into a frown as he thought it over, and so deeply engrossed was he in the problems he foresaw that he wasn't even sick when the plane took off. He was still really glad when they landed, though - enough to keep forgetting his folks for a little longer.

Bastian lay on his "throne" - as they'd always called it -- the black leather recliner in the band's studio. Papers lay scattered across his chest and lap, and he held a thin magazine rolled loosely in one pale hand. Faint murmuring sounds ghosted from under one of the glossy documents covering his face. Surlaw wandered in and one of his bushy eyebrows popped up when he saw the bassist lying in a semi-comatose state on the chair. He walked over, smiling faintly, and jabbed a finger in the general direction of the other man's nose.

"Wha - hey!"

"Wanted to make sure you were awake." He grunted in amusement when the lean young man scrambled desperately, trying to keep all the papers from falling to the floor.

"I am now." He blew out a gust of air in exasperation.

"How's the house hunt going?" The bigger man leaned over and began helping him pick up all the rumbled sheets and slips.

"Eh." Bastian held up one of his empty hands and rocked it back and forth uncertainly. "We've got enough money, but it's hard finding something that fits all our needs and wants." He put everything on the coffee table in the middle of the room and straightened, looking around meaningfully.

"She's with her girlfriend in there looking at dresses."

"Still?"

Surlaw snickered. "Just when she picks one she likes Chastity points out five others. She'll just go back to the first one anyway."

"Yeah, probably." Bastian scratched absently at the scruff on his chin. He needed a trim but they'd been too busy with interviews, looking at real estate and planning for the wedding for almost anything else. Not to mention all the recording at the studio for their new CD.

"Oh, she asked me." The guitarist's voice broke slightly and he turned around, throwing a casual hand in the air to wave around.

"Good." Now the big man was part of the wedding party. Elly had tentatively approached Bastian on the plane trip home about asking Surlaw to give her away. Bastian had thought it was touching and proper, somehow. He stood patiently where he was as the other man got himself under control.

"I just came in to wake your ass up." Surlaw rolled his shoulders back and walked out, calling after the bassist as he went. "You'd better get in there or that'll take all day. Again."

Bastian chuckled to himself as he walked down the hallway to Chas' makeup room. He knocked softly and peeked inside.

"How's it going with the dress choosing?"

"I found one," Elly grinned shyly, looking up from the stack of magazines and books on the table in front of the mirror. Her blond friend was standing behind her pointing at the picture.

"The cost might turn the rest of your hair white, though," Chastity giggled.

"Huh." Bastian walked over and took her place, wrapping his arms around Elly from behind the chair. "Aw, that's not so bad," he said, inhaling her scent and smiling. "But I did come over to remind you we have an appointment to look at a house or two today." He tapped his watch.

"Soon?" She looked up at him, smiling.

"Yeah. We have to leave now so we can be there on time."

"Have fun, kids," Chas called out after them.

It didn't take too long to drive to the offices. What took longer was the trip to the house itself, which was located a decent drive away from the bustle of the main city. A half an hour later from when they had left Zero studios, they were in Bastian's car zipping along through traffic behind the woman they had hired.

"We're looking at two today?" Elly was leafing through a pamphlet for the first house. "Oh my god, Bast! This one is huge!"

"They're both kinda big," he laughed, glancing slyly aside at her. He turned his attention quickly back to the road and went on, "but we can afford it. That first one is owned by a musician so it even has a sound room. Pretty large, too."

"And a pool made to look like the beach?" She shook her head unbelievably as she flipped through the booklet. The last they had looked at hadn't had a pool for some strange reason and she'd declined. Now their Realtor was showing them homes with pools only, something she probably should have done at the outset. The wind from the open window beside her ruffled her side locks, causing the gray strands of hair to blow into her mouth. She irritably brushed them away from her lips and continued perusing the papers. "This sounds way too good to be true. Did you think about gardeners and stuff?"

"Yeah," he said as he turned off onto a side street. "We really can afford all this. I've been saving up for years besides the fact that our albums are making top dollar. Look, isn't this the street?"

Elly checked the sheet. "Yes! Oh, and she's signaling. That's got to be it." She stared up at the massive wrought iron gates with some nervousness. The realtor pulled up to a box by the side of the gates and reached out to press a button. She spoke briefly and they were buzzed in, the gates opening.

"Wow," Bastian murmured. "It'd be nice to have that kind of privacy."

"Agreed," the pale singer nodded. She was almost bouncing up and down in her seat she was so excited. He grinned at her but said nothing, only drove up the circular driveway to the huge house and parked. The matronly woman climbed out of the car and smiled broadly at them, waving.

"Her name's Rose, right?" Bastian made a face. "I keep forgetting."

"Yes."

"You made it," the older woman smiled as the musicians got out of the smaller car and stood staring up at the mansion. There was nothing else it could be called. It was definitely a mansion in every sense of the word.

"Yeah, no problems." Bastian walked over and shook her hand warmly. Rose beamed at him, then smoothed the front of her dress down and gestured at the massive stone building Elly was still gawking at.

"Amazing, isn't it? Bigger than the last few we looked at." Her features brightened considerably when the gray-haired singer also wandered over to shake her hand.

"Good to see you again," she said, and meant it. "And yes, this is all amazing. I could never believe I would ever be looking at such a huge house to live in."

"The owner is visiting neighbors," their Realtor told them, "so that we have the absolute run of the house without that embarrassing run-in with someone who lives here. He told me to tell you to feel free using anything: the bathrooms if you need to, the piano in the entrance way, anything at all."

"It's big enough for a piano in the entrance way," Elly murmured softly in awe.

"You'll see!"

Elly's gray hair ruffled in the breeze of the studio fan. Her face was radiant, cheeks flushed with real enjoyment at this photo shoot. Sometimes they were annoying, sometimes a chore but this was one of those rare fun ones. She and Bastian were modeling wedding outfits for a bridal magazine. The romantic poses were desired and the couple felt exhilarated that they could express themselves perfectly, without guilt or the feeling of folks thinking they were acting at all. Bastian, elegantly dressed in a suit jacket with a deep blue cummerbund and ruffled shirt was standing behind her for the last few pictures, holding the veil she was wearing up in one hand and her hand with his other. His hair had grown long in the back - long enough to be tied with a bit of silk ribbon -- and he was clean-faced. The singer, for once, had more makeup on than him! His icy eyes sparkled mischievously and he bent to kiss her neck. Elly giggled girlishly and hunched over, ducking because his long chin scruff tickled.

It was that photo in the end that graced the cover and Bastian grinned a week later when he saw the issue on the studio's coffee table.

"There's something about that photo," he said conversationally to Julian, picking it up.

"What?" The drummer flopped down onto the couch. "That she's ticklish?"

"No, I just think it caught us really good. Better yet than anything else. Hey, baby, come look," he called out as he saw a familiar shape in the doorway.

"M'what?" She walked over, stretching. They were taking a break from practicing, maybe ending their sessions completely for today. Surlaw's absence had been keenly felt by them all during the session, though, and they'd finally agreed to at least relax for a bit. The big man had almost brusquely informed them all he had a date and left some hours earlier.

"What do you think?" Bastian reached out when she was a foot away and lifted her into his lap, his arms enfolding her snugly against him as Julian held up the magazine.

"Aw, they used that one," she chuckled, blushing.

"The others're too sappy," the green-haired man on the couch drawled.

"Julie," Bastian chided.

"Pfff!" He blew out air in a great rush. He wasn't wearing any makeup today and he looked very odd as always without it, his skin darker than the white face paint and his chubby face more childish, cute. The baby face clashed with his torn jeans and paint-speckled Union Jack shirt he'd ripped the sleeves off of. "I'm serious. Geez. The rest look like romance novel covers!" He waved one in particular in their faces and they both laughed. It was true; they'd overdone it a bit. But they all did from time to time.

"What about that last one you did?" Elly giggled faintly. "Hanging upside down from the overhead lights? Really, Julie, I don't even know how you did that."

"Aw, you know that wasn't real. They had me only a few feet off the ground." He burped loudly and banged on his chest. "Those burgers sucked, man," he grumped.

"You ate four," she reminded him.

"Yeah, and they're coming back," he groaned. He kicked his legs in the air, shoelaces flying. "You guys pick a house yet?"

"We really like one we saw so far," Bastian told his friend seriously. "If we make an offer and everything goes okay we'd have a home hopefully around the time everything else finishes up."

"That long?" Julian's green eyes blinked in confusion. "But the wedding's like, months and months away..."

"We have to get furniture and stuff, remember Julie. The place is huge and the guy's not leaving all his stuff for us. Besides, we want to furnish it our own way." He murmured something inaudibly to Elly when she wiggled in his lap and she chuckled wickedly.

"Gross," the Joker said almost absently. "Quit screwing around when I'm here." He kept kicking at nothing, creating a beat with those untied laces that knocked against his sneakers when they fell. "So you gonna offer?"

"I think so," Elly smiled. "It's really awesome, you can't imagine. If we had it before the wedding we'd have planned the reception there."

Bastian sighed. "That brings up something," he said mournfully.

"Uh oh."

Julian turned his head, his feet freezing in mid-kick. "'Sup?"

"I called my folks the other night and they're coming over to see the studio and, err, meet Elly and you guys." He wrinkled his nose, his blue eyes worried.

"And you're just telling me?" Elly's voice had a slight edge to it.

"Sorry, hon," he said ruefully. "I didn't want to bring it up last night when we were..." He stopped, blushed, and threw an apologetic look at Julian, who'd slapped a hand over his face.

"Gah! Quit doin' that! You guys're like my brother and sister," he finished lamely, his eyes glazing over for a moment. He snapped back to finish, "I don't wanna picture that. Please."

Elly watched him carefully for a moment. "Why don't you ever talk about your own family?" She asked him quietly. He was silent for a long while, staring up at the ceiling with a grave expression on his face. His friends weren't pushing but he knew they'd always wondered. And with his admission that they were his new family he made a bold decision to open up.

"My sister killed herself," he said finally. His voice had a gruff quality about it when he continued, his eyes flinty. "My parents were abusive. They drove her to it. I ran away here, she ran away like that." Julian clamped his lips tightly shut before he could blame himself out loud.

"Oh, shit," Elly whispered and Bastian whistled softly. "I'm sorry." He shrugged and faced them again, his dark green eyes suddenly vulnerable as his mood flipped.

"It happened a couple years ago. It's over." Elly got up and walked over to his prone form. He watched her suspiciously. "What're you ...hey."

Bastian smiled as she bent and hugged the lean young man to her tightly. His friend's arms slipped timidly about her shoulders, hugging her back and after a moment he started to shake. Elly reached up and patted his long, curly hair in a comforting manner. After that there was no way they wanted to go back to practice, so they went their separate ways for the day. It wasn't time for dinner yet and they'd had a late lunch but Julian hopped on his bike and spun off towards a better burger joint. He muttered something about 'getting the taste out of his gut' of the last place they'd tried.

Bastian and Elly walked more slowly down the hall to the main door. Elly was combing her short gray hair with her fingers and frowning.

"Now why is this that you hid the fact your parents are finally coming to see us?" She asked her fiancee.

The bassist dropped his eyes and sighed. "You didn't forget."

"Hell, no." Elly tapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him wince. "Tell me next time. Don't wait."

"Yes, dear." He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly. "Oh, I almost forgot. My Obachan is coming, too." She gave him an inquiring look and he grinned. "Grandma."

"Your mom's Japanese," Elly remembered. She shook her head. "I'm going to be a nervous wreck."

"Me, too."

"But they're your parents!"

"Yeah, well." He shifted uncomfortably. "I never got along with them. Mom didn't want me to be a musician - I had to pay my own way for classes and stuff -- and dad..." He coughed, blushing suddenly. His hair fell across his left eye, obscuring it momentarily and he shook it back.

"Worse?"

"Dad wanted a manly football guy. He got a bisexual musician." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Can you imagine how he treated me? He thought I was fucked up somehow, broken in a way he could fix." Elly nuzzled affectionately at his neck to encourage him and he smiled weakly.

"It's all right, love. You don't have to explain it."

"Yeah but, well, you'll meet him." He made a face. "That's all you need to do to understand it all. I love my grandmother though," he added with a sly chuckle. "She never judged me - although I don't think she understood why I had a pretty boy around when most guys had girlfriends -- and I could always go to her when they got really bad. She would sort of help me out now and then."

"Why haven't you mentioned her, either, then?!"

"She's living with them now. I write them, but don't visit because of all the crap arguments it usually causes. Obachan shouldn't really get too excited now. Her heart's not good."

"Well," Elly sniffed as they stepped out into the bright autumn afternoon together, "at least your dad should like me since I'm female." Bastian gaped at her and then started laughing.

The deep bass guitar notes reverberated in an endless litany as Bastian idly practiced something he'd been working on for a week or so. It was complex, rippling and flowing and she watched, fascinated as always, at his fingers dancing across the strings with no apparent effort. He was dressed in a loose-fitting black shirt, open at the front and combined with silk pants that tied about his waist with a deep blue sash.

"The new piece again?" Elly had the hot tub bubbling and was ready to take a dip. They were both out on the patio of the condo ostensibly to watch the autumn sunset. Both were trying in their own ways to calm down for the impending visit from Bastian's relatives. The Libache family would arrive later that night and they were both extremely nervous about it.

"Uh huh." He frowned and picked at the strings. The sound they made was as discordant as his nerves.

"Augh, don't do that." She shivered, casting aside her lavender robe to reveal the skull-and-crossbones bikini he'd bought her awhile back.

"Sorry, I'm jittery tonight." He bent and set down his instrument, regarding her closely as she slipped into the water with a sigh.

"You should join me, then. This is relaxing."

"Now that sounds like a great idea." He grinned and picking up the guitar again strolled inside the house. "I'll be back, babe."

The singer laid back and closed her eyes. The water was cool on her skin and she tried to not think about anything as she relaxed. She lost track of time but opened her eyes later as the water surged around her. Bastian climbed atop her, his arms on either side of her head on the decking as he stood while she lay. He said nothing but leaned over and kissed her, a serious kind of kiss that made her heart race. His tongue urgently pushed past her lips and he tilted his head, both hands coming up to lightly grasp the sides of her face as he deepened it further. Elly felt like she was melting. His kisses were always delicious but the heightened sense of worry had pushed him into a kind of better performance than ever.

"Hmm, all right, don't get started."

"Did I ever stop?" He sighed and rolled off her to lay beside her in the tub, blowing absently at the forelock that covered half of his face.

"I think you just might be more nervous than I am!"

"Well, mom's going to freak - she's always wanted me to do what she wants, not what I want -- and dad's going to be a colossal prick like he always is."

"It'll be fine," she said with more conviction than she felt. "Maybe we should start getting ready though."

Several hours later her bravado crumbled as she quailed by her fiancee's side at the restaurant they were meeting them at. She'd spotted a man that looked somewhat like him and by his side was a diminutive lady with long, black hair and marvelous almost-black eyes.

"She's gorgeous!" Elly gasped apprehensively.

"Mom?" Bastian paused in the middle of the floor to take her hand as he led her to the table. "I guess. I never really thought about it." He was already moodily staring at the whipcord-lean man with gray hair wearing what was probably his only "nice" shirt. At least it doesn't have a slogan on it or a sports team logo, Bastian thought wearily. He nervously cleared his throat as they approached, causing both to turn their heads towards the couple. The tiny woman reached out to him immediately and he hesitated only slightly before going over to give her a hug. Halfway down she poked him in the chest instead and began speaking Japanese, a language Elly didn't know and that made her even more uncomfortable. Bastian frowned, holding up his hand before responding. He seemed to speak slower, haltingly.

"You forget what your mother taught you?"

"We need to speak in English anyway, mom," he said more cheerfully than he felt. He patted her back and stood up again. "My fiancée doesn't understand any Japanese."

"You don't anymore." She sniffed.

"Never mind that," his father suddenly spoke up. "I never got the hang of that shit. My tongue only speaks good ol' English." He winced; his wife had kicked him under the table. "We want to talk with this amazing girl, not argue." Elly sat down in a chair Bastian held for her and smiled, blushing with nerves.

"I'm not amazing."

"To get him to bother with a girl, you must've been."

"Dad." Elly turned sharply to stare in amazement at her man. His eyes were flashing with anger she'd caught a glimpse of only once before when that crazy guy had attacked her.

"Relax, Sebastian." He reached across the table and shook her hand, ignoring his son's angry scowl at the use of his abandoned name. "I don't mean it in a bad way. We wanted to meet you for a long time, Elly."

In the end she supposed it wasn't so bad. It seemed to be worse for Bastian. His mother and father didn't use his legal name but the one they picked for him which made him visibly angry each time and eventually she had to lay a gentle hand on his arm. The bunched muscles clearly spoke of impending violence. He sighed and tried to relax. His father made many veiled (and blunt as well) references to the fact that Elly was a very pretty woman - clearly stressing that she was female -- but with her hand on his they made it through the night without any scenes. When they were back in the car at last he waited until they were both in and belted before he slammed a fist on the dash.

"Careful," Elly murmured. "You'll hurt your hand."

"I can't stand it, Elly," he growled. She blinked. He very rarely used her name. "He just keeps digging in the fact that he thinks I'm "fixed" now, and, and..."

"Hey, relax, handsome." She leaned over and swore as the seat belt caught. Unlatching it she let it snap back into place and then reached across to turn his face towards hers for a small kiss. "We're getting married, remember? It's a happy time."

He said something in Japanese.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Bastian shook his head. "Everything. Look, I'm sorry you saw me get like that. They bring out the worst in me."

"I've heard parents do that sometimes."

He sighed again and pulled out into the road. "We're going to hear about that offer we made on the house tomorrow," he remembered as he switched lanes and drove steadily on back to the condo.

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?" She snuggled against the plush seat and closed her eyes. "I hope they accept it."

"They should. I think he was happy with the fact that we're musicians too."

"Then we can have something to occupy your mind other than your parents' visit."

"Oh shit, they'll want to see the house," he suddenly groaned as if it had just hit him. Elly took one look at his comically stricken face and started to giggle.

Surlaw was trying to relax.

"Wake up, Wolfy, we're going to be late!" Elly tugged lightly on his sideburns and he groaned.

"We don't have to be there for hours yet."

"I know you, remember?" The pale singer poked him on the nose with a gentle finger pad. He snapped quickly and caught it in his mouth, growling, and she laughed and fell on top of him as he threw his arms around her.

"Quit!"

"But I'm hungry." He nuzzled at her neck, green eyes half-lidded.

"They'll have food at the thing we're going to."

"Not that kind of hungry, luv." He bit gently and she shivered all over.

"I just showered, and..."

"I know. You smell delicious."

"No, I mean damn it, I just - !" The breath whooshed out of her as he spun her around and caught her against him in an almost fierce embrace.

"I won't even muss you," he breathed eagerly, hands running over her thighs beneath the dress she wore and relishing her tight gasp of excitement. "I promise."

"But..."

"Hmmm?"

"You always fall asleep afterward! How am I going to wake you up?"

Surlaw woke, bleary-eyed and confused. He was in a different bed and the smell was wrong. It should be lavender, but the scent wasn't faint. It was some unknown perfume instead of the gentle flower fragrance he yearned for. He heard a slight murmuring to his left and his eyes widened with dumb hope.

No. The woman beside him had blond hair.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

He groaned sleepily and rubbed at his eyes. Now he remembered taking the girl to a party or something and her inviting him back here. He reached up with a hand and scrubbed at his sideburns, messing the thick hair up. Carefully, without waking the snoring woman in the bed he got up and searched around the room for his clothing, yanking it on as fast as he could. His wallet and keys were in the pocket of his jeans and he hadn't left anything in the house that he knew of. Teeth clenched, he stole across the little apartment and opened the door. She still didn't wake, so he snicked it softly shut behind him and stood there for a moment with his heart beating wildly. When he gathered his wits about him he made a dash for his car as fast as he could. He had to get back home to his own bed. He felt sick to his stomach and angry. He blamed the woman he'd left behind for seducing him somehow. Maybe she'd gotten him drunk.

Maybe?

"Bollocks," he rumbled out loud as he pulled out of the parking space. He had to get back and get some more sleep in. There was some kind of appearance they had to do later today - a brief glance at the mini cooper's dash board clock told him it was "tomorrow" already -- and he had to be awake enough to function. He drove steadily back to his apartment and eventually slunk into bed just as he was. The alarm clock woke him a couple hours later and the big man groaned, rolling over to bat ineffectually at the clock causing the blaring tone. It was going straight through his aching head. Unfortunately he didn't reach as usual and only managed to knock half the shit that was piled up on his night table over onto the floor. Surlaw swore and bashed the top of the thing with a lightly-curled fist. The noise stopped and he sighed. Rolling onto his back he lay there and stared up at the ceiling, getting his thoughts in order. He'd definitely done something shitty the night before but he was certain he had gone into the party with a firm conviction of not doing it. He finally shrugged and swung his legs off the bed to get up. His mouth tasted like a chicken coop and he had to brush his teeth even before he showered and got out of the nasty clothes he had on. Clothes fell to the floor behind him as he stumbled into the bathroom. The puff of brown hair on his chest even seemed wild and matted today, he noticed sourly. Maybe he should dry out altogether, never take another drink. It seemed the best way but he knew any promises he made himself would end abruptly when he was facing a cold mug of ale in a bar.

That day went fine - eventually -- but a week later he walked into the main room of their recording studio to find Julian gaping open-mouthed at the television set.

"Holy fuck man, this chick..." He pointed at the screen.

"Why do you watch those things?" Surlaw's forehead wrinkled as he frowned.

"What's up?" Bastian poked his head in the door. He was holding hands with Elly and they strolled in to watch as well.

"Julie's watching one of those daytime bitch fests where ladies and gay men sit around and whine they were wronged."

Julian shot him a sour look and turned up the volume.

"He told me he loved me! But when I woke up he'd snuck outta the house and he won't answer my calls. I didn't want to make such a fuss but..." The camera panned away from the woman to show a stock photo of Zero cropped to show his face only.

Surlaw's face paled. "Oh, bloody hell," he choked.

"I thought you would want to know."

"What a bitch!" Elly protested vehemently. "She's all up there lying just to get the attention from..." She was cut off as Bastian placed a gentle hand over her mouth. The bassist regarded the British-born man calmly, his eyes not accusing.

"You did," he said simply. It was not a question. Surlaw ripped his battered fedora off and scratched at his ruffled hair. He thought about it for awhile, painfully aware of his ex-lover's eyes on him beside her fiancee. Elly was incredulous that her best friend should be accused of something like this. She begged him silently to say it wasn't true. But he'd lied once before and that had cost him their relationship. He didn't want to again.

"Yeah," he agreed curtly, making no excuses for himself. He had to turn his back on the look on her face when he said that.

"Oh, Wolfy," she whispered, pulling Bast's hand down so she could speak. "Why?"

Surlaw didn't answer her. He couldn't. Anything he would say would sound like a lame excuse. Instead he rolled his shoulders back to straighten his sagging posture. He'd gripped his hat so tightly the brim was bent and he absently straightened it before putting it back on his head. Julian had muted the set and watched somewhat sympathetically the whole time without adding anything but now he spoke up.

"PR's going to want to address this, I think."

"Why? Everyone wants to accuse of us something nowadays! We should just be left alone," She hissed. Bastian sighed wearily and bent towards her neck to whisper in her ear.

"I think you should go visit with Chas, sweetie," he murmured quietly. She opened her mouth to protest but he jerked his head in Surlaw's direction. The big man was still standing there, off to the side. He appeared to be staring at his boots and his face was a brick like red color. "Your presence is hurting him."

Elly swallowed hard. She nodded silently. Uncertain now, the pale singer took a step towards the bushy side burned man but he turned from her. She shook her head sadly and left with a small backward glance before she closed the door behind her.

"I didn't want to," the guitarist grunted as soon as the door clicked shut. "Fucking bitch got me bombed and I didn't even remember until I woke up."

"It happens." Bastian's tone was neutral but his ice-blue eyes were shockingly sympathetic, as were Julian's.

"Why're you all okay about this? I thought you'd rip on me."

"I've done stupid shit like that before too. Maybe worse than this."

"Yeah, me too." The green-haired drummer pushed back his mess of curls and shrugged. "It happens."

"Like Els said, more now that we're famous. Everyone wants a piece," Bastian noted. Surlaw sank down on the couch with a groan, his head in his purple-gloved hands.

"The relations guy can fix it," Julian assured him. "He took care of that whole love triangle bullshit, remember? It all dies down eventually."

"But what about -" He clamped his lips shut. Bastian reached over to clap him on the shoulder.

"I'll talk to her. You might want to think about what you want to say, too. But don't forget you're her friend, Wolf. She's not going to hate you just because of this."

"Maybe." He looked uncertain and of course couldn't voice his main concern. He felt like he'd cheated on her.

He sat alone in the common room, a big man with a small, round beer belly wearing sunglasses and gloves even though he was inside a building, decked out in his usual striped hat and garbed in garish polyester and corduroy. He was staring down at his leather clad fingers and thinking.

The tabloids and that show kept coming back to the same point: apparently he'd said he loved her. Surlaw knew how that could have come about. He also knew it was the only way he'd have had sex with her: if he'd been drunk enough to make himself believe she was Elly. How was he going to explain that to the singer? The young woman's disappointment and shock at his confession had stung him hard. He could have lived with the accusations and the phone calls since he had blocked the other woman's number but Elly's dark eyes on him, sad and confused, was another thing.

So he'd thought the other bitch was... her. Probably.

In that case he'd have probably been very eager to tell her how he felt. He didn't know because he didn't remember anything of that night. It was just as well. It disgusted him that he had done that thing, and he worried that he might not have used any protection (he also had an uneasy thought that she might have wanted his child for money or fame reasons). Their Public Relations rep had wanted him to stay silent on the whole affair and she was quietly going around putting out most of the larger fires. But public opinion of him wasn't what he worried about. The worst part was soon to come and he still didn't know what to say.

The door creaked open and he grit his teeth.

"Surlaw?" Her voice was uncertain and for once he regretted her speaking his actual name. What he wouldn't give to hear her say 'Wolfy', even though it hurt all the other times she spoke it.

He sighed. "Hello, Elly." If she was using his name he would use hers. Keep it nice and formal. He wasn't prepared for the awkward silence and he glanced over to see her hovering in the doorway.

"You all right?" She asked quietly. She wore a simple black t-shirt with some logo on it he didn't recognize and jeans. The jeans clung to her body above and flared out below to cover her shoes. Her hair was still gray and she'd let it grow a little longer than since he'd first met her. He wondered if that had been her idea, or Bastian's, or...if it was something special for their wedding. Her left hand was visible and the diamond ring sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

"I didn't want to do it," he told her truthfully.

"But if you didn't, why did you?" Her smooth forehead wrinkled distressingly. "You slept with her and..."

"I didn't want to. I'm sorry." It was out before he could rephrase it and she stared back at him.

"Shouldn't you apologize to her? Not me?"

"She's not important," he shrugged.

"Ah," she murmured brokenly, stepping quickly over to the couch and sitting down next to him. He closed his eyes when she touched his cheek gently: she was using the hand with the ring. "Life happens. Don't be sorry for living your own."

"I won't lie again to you. I felt sick after I knew what had happened. I'd cheated on more than a memory."

"But you..." Surlaw held up a hand, stared at the glove and took a moment to tug one off. He placed a warm hand on her own and looked deeply into her wary eyes.

"I'll always think of you first."

"Always is a long time, Wolfy," she said with a faint smile.

"I mean it, luv," he told her solemnly. He paused, then leaned over and gently kissed her, his mouth open but the touch brief. While she was still seated with her face aflame and hand pressed to her lips he stood and tugged on his shirt to straighten it. He squeezed her shoulder and strode out of the room, by chance - or perhaps not -- meeting Bastian in the hall. They nodded but didn't speak.

I wear gloves  
But my fingers bleed  
Every time I play for her

And it hurts, it hurts and it won't stop,  
the blood flows fresh, old wounds never healing,  
new ones all the time

I'm tougher than she knows  
Hanging in there  
By a silken cord 'round my neck  
Strung by me, not you  
And it hasn't been pulled yet

I wear glasses  
But my eyes burn  
Every time I see her with him

I don't cry, it stings and stings  
but I won't cry, eyes dimming, losing light  
and it's always dark inside

But she's happy  
Isn't that what counts?  
So happy my love  
With her diamond ring she looks so sharp  
That it cuts me inside

I'm wearing two hats  
Now a friend, was a lover  
I can't take both off

No, it's mine and I'll keep it because  
I want it, need it and it's cold without it,  
so cold without it

I'll be there for you, my friend  
Always there to help and hold  
I'll do anything I can for you  
But not everything  
Not what really matters

 

I love you but I can't love you,  
I know but I'll always want to, always  
love you.

 

Surlaw's new song was a huge hit.

He'd actually written something that made it big! The cruel joke of the whole situation wasn't lost on him. He didn't care anymore, that was it. Once he had stopped struggling to get everything "perfect" it all came together quite simply.

It was an emotional song and things would have been awkward if they'd all had to perform together. What made things easier was the fact that the guitar and bass were both too difficult for Elly. She was absent from the stage each time, something the fans speculated about but that was the simple truth. She just couldn't play either line. Standing back stage watching her ex boyfriend - now just friend -- sing and scream in apparent agony of heartbreak when she'd thought he was over the worst of things did mess with her emotions. But she tucked everything away when they finished the number and came out to sing the way a good professional always does. On stage it didn't matter, things swayed to the feeling of each new song. So when she sang a more upbeat one she felt much better immediately and could even roam around and sing with him.

After, though, she would look at him acting so brave around her and almost want to cry.

Bastian saw her internal struggle but clamped his lips firmly shut on the matter. He knew she loved him in the way that mattered most and not Surlaw. He therefore saw no reason to stick his nose into a matter that was between friends and didn't really concern him. The big man was friendly to him now and they worked together better than they ever had. He was trying another outlet for his anger and pain, one Bastian knew quite well. He'd been in the same situation when Surlaw and Elly had been together.

He growled under his breath. The lanky musician was in one of the sound rooms at their studio, trying to practice some bass lines by himself. But his mind kept wandering. They'd visited his Obachan the other night and the time had flown much faster and happier than when they had been with his parents. His grandmother was a kindly old woman that had immediately hugged his fiancee and told her how happy she was about her joining the family. It had been wonderful. His beloved's dark eyes had shown such happiness that she would finally have what she'd longed for so long. He paused, long fingers running over the strings and bringing a rippling cadence of sound from the instrument he held. And when he finally fulfilled her ultimate desire and they had a child of their own...

I can't concentrate.

There, it was true. He missed Elly. She'd gone off for a dress fitting with Chas and he was stuck here practicing by himself.

"Dude, quit moping around." Julian's baby face peeked in at him. He wrinkled his chubby nose and rolled his eyes at his friend. "You're sick, man. She'll be back later. You need to quit being such a puss."

"Fuck you." He set the bass down and grinned at his friend. "I'm not that bad."

"Pfff." Julian banged the back of the chair he'd sat down in a rhythmic tattoo. "Is that new house of yours ready yet?"

"Nah." Bastian leaned back and crossed his arms behind his head. "We have a lot of furniture to purchase and some of the utilities still have to be transferred."

"Well, when're you gonna have a house-warming party?"

"When my parents go back home!" The pale young man laughed ruefully. "I'm tired of all the snide little comments about me making 'the right choice' and digs at me not having a purely traditional wedding."

"Could you have made a wrong choice?" His friend snorted and scratched at his thick, curly green locks.

Bastian gave him an amused stare. "I could have picked a guy."

"Aw man, ew." Julian seemed to rethink this. "Well, ew, but not like I'm judging you. It's just not for me and I don't wanna think about it."

"Fair enough." Bastian sighed, tossed the white-dyed bangs off his forehead and looked up at the ceiling. "The wedding, though... it's going to be next summer, we do know that."

"The beach?"

"You know it." The pale young man smiled. "Elly loves the water so much. That's how we managed to agree on the house. The back yard has this giant pool set up like the actual ocean. There's even sand that has to be combed through by the landscapers every now and then."

"How long?" Julian was nearly bouncing up and down in excitement.

"A week, I think. As soon as we move in we'll set a date for the party." He grinned. "We'll have burgers," he said even as the Joker opened his mouth to ask. "As well as other things!"

"Shit, man, I can't wait!"

"Neither can I," Bastian sighed dreamily. He was thinking of carrying her in and the joy in the love they would surely make that night in their very own home.

That night, Bastian was having the most wonderful dream where he and his fiancee were swimming in the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean - a place they had chatted about going for their honeymoon -- when he was violently woken up. Elly was clinging to his side tightly, her hot face pressed into his bare side. He grunted sleepily, trying to focus in the dim early morning light glowing from behind the light curtains.

"El - what?" He didn't get a spoken answer but the low whine she made woke him right up. She was terrified. "Oh, no," he murmured, rolling over to face her. "Again?"

Another whimper.

"The same dream?" She nodded in response and he sighed and held her while she cried on his chest, the tears hot on his cool skin. "Darling," he began nervously, "I think we should see someone about these nightmares of yours. You're starting to scare me a little."

"The doctor?"

"I'll call first thing in the morning."

The doctor they went to ran some basic tests but recommended that they see a psychiatrist in the end. He was certain nothing was physically wrong with her and while that relieved them both Elly didn't like the idea of going to a "shrink".

"I don't know, 'Bast..." She seemed to sulk beside him as he drove off a week and a half later to the address on the card they had been given.

"Will you at least talk to the guy? For me? You scare me half to death when you cry out in the middle of the night like that. And you can't even remember what you're upset about." He laid a gentle hand on her knee, keeping one on the wheel as he turned into the driveway of the stark medical plaza.

"What if someone sees?"

"They'll have to deal with it. We're bundled up and we took the other car, so hopefully no one will know it's us. Except the staff of course." He parked and turned to stare reassuringly into her eyes.

"I feel silly, Bastian. I don't like doctors. Especially these kinds."

"I'm going to take care of you, love, no matter what. But I can't do it if I don't know what's wrong." He leaned over and nuzzled inside the hood from her sweatshirt to plant a tender kiss on her lips.

"I hate this," she complained wearily but she let him escort her into the building. Once inside she filled out a few forms and then was taken by herself into the doctor's office. Bastian waited outside and read an article about the band in some pulpy rock magazine. He could barely control his snickering when he read the writer's speculation on various aspects of their relationship. Eventually the door opened and a very pale Elly walked out. It was almost impossible to tell from her glasses and concealing hood what her expression was but he did notice her mouth was drawn disapprovingly tight.

"He wants to speak with you alone," she told him angrily.

"You okay?" He slipped an arm around her and hugged lightly.

"I hate this. I feel like a little kid," she grumped and then hugged him back. "I'm sorry. He told me what he was going to do but he wants to give you some advice, too. Go ahead."

"Oh, read the magazine on the chair," he called out over his shoulder as he entered the door she had just left. "It's hilarious."

There was a big man inside the room seated on a chair in front of an ornate desk. He held a pad of paper in one hand and was flipping briefly through it as he entered. His hair was streaked with silver at the temples and he was quite large, giving him the appearance of a younger Santa Claus. Bastian's mouth quirked as he thought this. He held out a hand as the doctor greeted him.

"Hello, Mr. Libache," Santa-Psychiatrist said heartily.

"Thanks for seeing us so soon," he responded amiably, seating himself in a chair opposite the big man. "Well," he plowed on before anything else could be said, "do you know what's wrong?"

"I think I do. These episodes at night are most likely based on the fact that she is scared of being left alone." The man held up a hand when Bastian opened his mouth to protest. "Ms. Elly said she was an orphan. She doesn't claim to have any other family..."

"No. She said the people that raised her treated it as a job."

"Now you are going to be that family she never had. It all hinges on you, yes? And you were almost killed once before." He set his notepad down and again Bastian found himself thinking of Christmas melodies.

He's making a list, he's checking it twice... dammit, he really does look like him, though.

"But..."

"She's frightened you will be taken from her. Everything else she had was when she was too young to remember. That's what I speculate." He smiled at the flustered young man in front of him. "Did you have any tests run at your physician's?"

"Obviously." Bastian crossed his legs and leaned back in the puffy leather chair. "He sent us to you, after all."

"Blood work?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't get the call back yet?"

"No, we did. Nothing was wrong. Is she sick? Is it serious?" His ice-blue eyes widened as a million different concerns rushed him at once. "Oh, my god."

"If I may speak bluntly..."

"Urgh." Bastian bit his lip, his eyebrows drawing down in a worried frown.

"Excitability and night terrors are sometimes factors in a woman's pregnancy. And in the case of your fiancée, who has many insecurity problems, the fears may be heightened."

"Well, nothing came back positive. Do they test for that?"

"They run a test with the blood work, yes. If she was, you would know by now." The psychiatrist's eyebrow raised when he saw the mix of regret and relief that passed across the pale man's face.

"But she can't get enough sleep at night. She's scared out of her mind, is that normal?"

"Let me put it to you bluntly, Mr. Libache. She is placing all her hopes of love, of family, on you. Her fears are only natural in this situation but her waking in the middle of the night in such panic is not. It's disrupting her life and that is not well. I can help with that to some degree..." He ripped a sheet off the pad he held and gave it to the lanky young man. Bastian glanced at it and wrinkled his forehead.

"What's this?"

"A prescription for a mild sedative," he told him as he rose from his chair. "It should help her sleep at night."

"Is this really necessary?" He nearly glared at the slip he held in hiis hand. He hated prescriptions. Bastian didn't trust pills and he didn't like the thought of his beloved taking any, either.

"You may try without the pills, if you like. During the day she may need a little extra care to make sure she knows you're with her. Don't worry her by doing anything excessive - no rock climbing, for instance -- while she's in such a state."

"I won't." The musician smiled briefly at the thought. He'd be doing nothing more than sticking close to her side if she was really that worried. He stood as well, glad this was over and hopeful that he could help her.

The doctor paused in the act of walking him back to the door. "I don't think you need to worry so much," he told him seriously. "At least try the pills. If they help her, cut the dosage to half and see what that does. Try to find the least amount that will help and try some nights without them to be sure she doesn't need them anymore. They're not that addictive but what with all the tragedies nowadays we're all being very careful."

"Oh." Bastian sighed shakily. "Thank you." They shook hands again before he was ushered out the doorway. I wonder if anyone's ever told him who he looks like, he wondered briefly before Elly was at his side, her hand slipping into his free one.

"Pills, right?" She made a face.

"Just a harmless little sleeping pill." He squeezed her hand gently and glanced at the receptionist. She nodded; Elly had paid while he was inside. "I don't like it any more than you do, but let's fill it so that if you need them we'll have them."

"I still think we need another number to balance those out on the album," Surlaw said urgently, slapping the list in front of him on the coffee table. "If this is how they're gonna print them off..."

"Hey, yo," Julian waved as the door opened and the rest of the band wandered into the common room at their studio.

"Let's go," Bastian said amiably enough.

"Ass."

"That's not the next line."

"It could be," Elly laughed. "I've seen you improvising. You don't want to know what happened to A Hard Day's Night."

"All right, all right," Julian waved his hands around as if warding off an attack. "I give!"

"Give what?" Surlaw raised his bushy eyebrows and leered suggestively at him. "You know, you'd make a pretty little thing if you wore different makeup instead of the zombie crap all the time." Bastian and Elly doubled over laughing at the smaller man's face.

"You suggesting you want some, then?" He made as if to bend over. "You can look, just don't..."

"Aw, enough mate, seriously." Surlaw covered his eyes with one gloved hand. "You'll blind me." He was wearing a t-shirt today with the Union Jack on it and it looked strange to see him out of his apartment in anything plain. Elly commented on this and he shrugged.

"Wash day."

"I should have known." She flopped sideways into Bastian's giant leather chair and slid her legs over the side. "So what're we arguing about?"

"Wolf wants to change the song layout of the album. They gave us the tentative list." Julian pointed with one finger at the paper on the table.

"What's wrong with it?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea to put that one new song in front of all the others."

"But it's yours," she commented in surprise when she saw. "Why not?"

"It doesn't make sense, that's all."

They argued about it for awhile but in the end decided to let the marketing department have the final say. That was hours ago, and now Bastian and Elly were back at their condo. They were dressed down in pajamas - for Bast this meant silk boxers, for Elly she had on a long t-shirt -- and they were winding down before bed.

Except she couldn't relax.

She kept pacing back and forth, now picking up a book, then setting it down with a shake of her head. Straightening little things in the kitchen and wandering about aimlessly.

"Please just come sit here with me, baby." Bastian patted the sofa next to him. "Next week we'll have out very own home, complete with fireplace," he purred seductively when Elly sighed and sank down beside him.

"We will, won't we?" She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. The pills they had gotten from the doctor seemed to help but every night he tried to help her get to sleep without them. They had one rule: if she woke up screaming in the middle of the night she would take half a pill. That was it and so far they had crutched along just fine. She had hardly taken any of the sedatives at all and they both liked it that way.

Knowing the problem was the key. Now that he knew she was scared of losing him he made it a point to stay with her as often as he could. He stopped going out with Rick on Thursdays for a drink and he didn't go out with Julian unless she was with him, either. His friends didn't complain and for that he was glad. They knew the pale singer was his very life and he would do anything for her. Besides, she would not need him glued at her hip forever. This was just a common case of nerves due to all the stress and her unusual childhood. They'd get through it.

"I've been thinking about that all day," he confided in as sultry a tone as he could manage. The result was a limp and melty fiancée next to him who hummed in approval.

"About the fireplace?"

"The furniture will start getting moved in a few days, so we'll have the bed and everything. But I'm setting aside some pillows and quilts where I can get my hands on them. We can have some champagne in front of a big warm fire...and make love for the first time inside our very own house." He kissed her neck and smiled when she shivered.

"Sounds wonderful," she sighed. He noted with pleasure that she was sounding sleepy all on her own. Ever the opportunist, Bastian nuzzled and began to rock her gently in his arms. "Oh, honey," she laughed wearily.

"Shh," he murmured. "If you want, you can sleep right here tonight. I won't leave."

"All of this has been hard on you," she said drowsily. "I love you, Bastian."

He watched tenderly as her eyes slipped closed. "I know. I love you, too."

Surlaw was bare to the waist, painted across his upper chest with red smeary battle-paint. His dark brown hair fell over his shoulders and his bushy sideburns were longer than ever, adding to the fearsome look in the images. The photos were meant to arouse squeals of glee from fans.

Why they should make her feel this way was confusing.

It was so strange and she felt the burn across her cheeks as she gulped at the pictures in the magazine. In fact, Elly was so interested in the pages that she didn't hear Chastity bustling about the room. Her friend finally poked her on the shoulder.

"El, hon? What're you reading?"

Elly jumped guiltily. "Uh, nothing. It's this, just this new interview with photo spread so I was curious and..." She gasped as she ran out of air.

The blond woman raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that Themai?"

"Er."

"Oh my." The makeup artist reached over the back of the chair and deftly picked the spread from her nerveless pal's fingers. Elly covered her flushed cheeks with the palms of her hands. Her ex lover had started working out, that was apparent. His outfits hadn't shown off the trimmed body or his abdomen but the shoot did to full advantage. They'd all seen his chin scruff grow but hadn't realized he'd been growing his hair.

"Don't look at me that way," she groaned as Chastity giggled. "Ah, I thought you were my friend. This is making me crazy uncomfortable."

"This is a really hot shoot," Chas murmured. "You're only human, dear."

"But it's getting worse. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to hurt Bastian if he sees me."

"Sees you what?" His mellow voice sounded from behind them as if he'd been summoned. Elly gargled faintly. She reached up and tugged on the strands of gray hair that fell down her cheeks.

"I think I'll just..." Chas pointed out the door and slipped out as the pale young man blinked.

"What's up?"

"Ah, hell." She held her arms out and he smiled as he bent down for a hug. "Have you seen the photo shoot Surlaw did lately?"

"Tarzan boy?" He rolled his eyes. "Yep. Very sexy. The photographers did a kick ass job. The makeup artists, too."

"Sexy?" She pulled back to stare at him incredulously.

"He's never been my type," Bastian admitted with a twinkle in his ice-blue eyes, "but he's toned up lately, and they sure got some good shots in. The angle was great for his angry guy pose."

"Uh."

"You thought it was too, didn't you? Is that why you're uncomfortable?" He glanced at the magazine on the table nearby. "Yep."

"Uh..."

"Didn't think I'd take it that easily?" He grinned and tickled under her chin with one long finger. "I know you love me, baby. But there are things in the world that turn us all on. We can't change that. We're animals, deep down inside." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head, hair swinging against the side of his face.

"Holy shit, I love you." She grabbed at him, holding him even tighter and feeling the sting of tears at her eyes.

"Mmm, just don't worry." He kissed the side of her neck. He smelled good, the faint scent of the incense they had burned last night lingering in his clothing. "It's whether or not you act on your desires that makes the difference. You can look all you want. It's still me you come home to at night."

He paused. "Besides..." He opened the magazine and flipped through it for a moment. "That one," he chuckled, tapping a darkened image where the guitarist was crouched over with his guitar in one hand like a cave spear, "had me staring at it for awhile to see if they had him in briefs or a thong."

"Bastian!"

"You can't tell, anyway. Heh." He tossed the glossy pile back onto the table. "I gotta go run some errands, dear. You'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine," she said, a little dazed at his ready confession. She heard him speaking softly with her friend at the door and then he was gone, leaving her alone and even more baffled than before.

"What happened?" Chas asked when she walked back inside.

"I have no idea," Elly told her. "Wow."

A couple of weeks later, however, she came to the conclusion that her friend had known more than she did about what happened that day. The singer came home from yet another dress fitting to find the condo dark except for a candelabra lit on the coffee table. The air was perfumed by the musky candles and there was something strewn about the floor in an obvious trail to the bedroom. Smiling in anticipation, Elly set her purse down and stooped to pick it up. Her dark eyes widened and she caught her breath.

She held in her hand a glossy eight by ten photo of her fiance standing straight and staring boldly at the camera with apparently nothing on. One of his legs was adorned with a garter of black feathers. More crowned his dark hair and arms as well as lying about in an artfully lit foreground while his nether region was completely shadowed. Her heart raced madly in her chest and her jeans suddenly felt several sizes too tight down there. Seeing him like this raised such a drastic rush of desire in her she could barely contain herself from crying out. She only refrained because she knew he would get more pleasure if she let it all out when she got to the end of the trail of photos. The images got more risque as she picked them up - she was certain they would -- and the last left her literally panting. She wasn't sure if it was oil or water they had used, but his body gleamed as he stretched on all fours, little trickles dripping down his tattooed face and chest. The pendant he refused to ever take off dangled, catching the lighting in a brilliant sparkle. Bastian was reaching out hungrily, mouth open and eyes burning with the same lust she felt now. Elly flipped the photo a few times to fan herself and saw this one had writing on the back.

"I had these taken only for you. No magazine spread or anything: just a little surprise.

PS: Oh, and it's a thong. I have it on now, if you'd like to have a better view than the photos. Come play, my love."

Elly stared into the bedroom with her cheeks flaming and a wicked smile on her face. She was the luckiest woman alive, and she knew it. Afterwards, when she suggested they take a trip to the local mall he didn't even argue.

Bastian looked up in some surprise from the bracelets he was deciding whether or not he wanted. One of the clerks was staring at him oddly and even as he looked her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth as if to say something but no words came out. People recognized him all the time in public - he hated wearing hats and his hair was very distinctive -- but this seemed wrong. She seemed to tense up in a different posture than what he was used to seeing on a fan. He frowned slightly. A slight, brown-haired girl with freckles and an up-turned nose ...

The nose!

She'd pointed it up in the air at him all those years ago. He remembered her all at once and he raised an eyebrow, spoke without thinking.

"Stephanie?"

"You've been in here for ages, dear." Elly came around the corner with a twinkle in her dark eyes at that very moment. The other girl flinched and he quirked an evil little smile that he felt bad about nonetheless.

"I know. I met someone from my past. This is a girl I used to know, babe," he said casually.

"Really?" He had to admit the flash of cool curiosity on his fiancée's face was satisfying. She stepped close to his side. "Hi."

"Hello," Stephanie sighed. Her expression firmed as she pointed to the bracelets. "I know who you are, of course. I won't announce it or anything. Ba- uh, sir, you kept looking at these. Do you want me to take them out for you?"

"Sure." Bastian sat on a stool in front of the counter while she unlocked the case and took one onyx-studded cuff out. Elly sat beside him and watched as he tried it on. "What happened to you, anyway? I thought you were going to be a doctor or something." He tugged at his shirt collar. He hated buttoning them up but the hair combined with the tattoos on his chest gave him completely away. People would look at him as if they thought they knew who he was now but not a lot would approach him. Elly had to wear a baseball cap when she went out because she was recognized more for some reason.

"I didn't make it," Stephanie said shortly in answer to his question. Her lips thinned to such a fine line they were scarcely visible. She wasn't pleased and why should she be? He'd shown her up like he had shown his mother - shown them all he could be what he wanted to be. Anyone he'd cared for hadn't believed in him and he thought he was justified in a little nose-rubbing.

The cuff flashed brightly under the store's lighting. "I think I want these," he murmured. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

"I like them. They'd go good with a lot of your clothes."

"Totally agree," Bastian grinned, rolling his blue eyes dramatically. He told the woman he'd take them and then added casually, "do you have any pamphlets or stuff on wedding bands at all? We haven't picked any out yet."

"You're not telling me that's - " She clamped her lips shut on the rest of that sentence but Elly had heard enough.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought all that was media hype." She glared at Bastian, ignoring the looks from her co-workers on the floor. One of them was staring in the back at the manager. Something was awkward over there and he didn't like it. He gestured at the boss when he walked out and pointed towards them, speaking so softly in the background none of the people at the counter heard him.

"What?" He almost laughed out loud right then when Elly's hand slipped up on the counter to grasp his. She'd used her left and her diamond ring shone with a brilliance it only could under jewelry-store lighting.

"Our love isn't fake," she said so firmly that he looked aside at her, surprised. His heart raced as he watched his love's blood spark in the face of another woman. Elly's eyes were as hard as the dark stones set in the cuffs laying on the counter. Her face was serene, however, betraying nothing of her anger.

"Excuse me." The manager stepped up, his expression smoothly apologetic. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No," Bastian sighed when he thought about it. "I guess not."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to see another pair of cuffs, perhaps? Anything at all?"

"No." Elly stood and nodded at him. "Thanks, though."

"Have a good day," he called out after them.

"After I find something to disembowel," the singer grated under her breath. Stephanie didn't even watch as they left but he heard the manager calling after her firmly.

"Whoo." Bastian let out a great rush of air when they were clear of the storefront. "Sorry, love. I couldn't help it. She was always such a bitch to me back then, siding with mom on how I was never going to be what I wanted and how stupid it was. 'Every little boy wants to be a rock star'," he suddenly mimicked in a snippy little tone. Elly was surprised at how perfectly he got the other woman's tone down. It sounded younger but it was definitely the same one.

"Did you two date?"

"Hell, no. I wasn't good enough for her."

"I'm glad," she blurted out. "Someone like that deserves to see what she missed out on. What a bitch! Honestly! What does she think, we act all the time? That our love's a fucking ..."

"Whoa, easy baby. Easy." His voice dropped low, became purring. Soothing. The tone he rarely had to use with her but that always worked to calm her down in a pinch. Of course now he regretted introducing them but at the time he'd just ... well, he was only human. He couldn't pass up the chance to show off a little.

"Sorry."

"My fault," he said amiably. "I have this bastard streak in me, it seems. Maybe we should find a few fans so I can yell at them or something."

"Oh Bastian, you'd never do that and you know it."

"Yeah, but that was kind of crappy. Ah, screw it."

"What's the use of being a celebrity if you can't flaunt it once in awhile?" She stopped short in the middle of the mall and pulled off her baseball cap. "Let's see how far we can walk without being noticed."

He grinned at her and unbuttoned his shirt enough so that the feathers showed on his pale chest. "I bet you three minutes."

"Ten," she countered. "It's a school day."

"Good point."

He grunted under the weight as he pulled his arms together again and again, the device he was working out with straining and pulling apart. His hair was tied back in a black bandanna out of necessity; he had grown it and it flopped around too much when he worked out if he didn't get it out of the way. Surlaw groaned and grit his teeth, struggling to finish the last set of reps so he could move on to his lower body routine. He hated exercise like this. No matter what the results he hadn't begun to enjoy it like people insisted he would.

There.

He dropped the thing and sighed, reaching over as he sat up to grab a drink of water from a cup next to him. As he drank he thought about the invitation he had gotten in the mail. Bastian and Elly were having a house-warming, and he was invited of course. He could bring a guest with him, a date, and that was what he was thinking so hard about. Scattered around his apartment were countless items. Comic books, beer bottles, rock and roll magazines. He collected mostly ones with him on the cover (or Elly, although he had hidden those in his closet for now). There were five guitars standing up in the living room not far from where he was working out at the moment and he knew where everything was in this jumbled mess except his address book.

"Blast," he muttered to himself. He put the cup down and looked around aimlessly. If he couldn't find that damn thing he'd have to ask Julian if he knew any available women. Barring that he'd have to go out and pick someone up from a bar or club. He grunted in disapproval. Going alone just wasn't something he wanted to do. Deciding he'd had enough wholesome exercise for the day, the big man stood up and stretched his arms and neck. Surlaw bent, picked the cup back up and the towel he'd been laying on. The cup got tossed into the sink as he passed on his way to the bathroom for a shower. He let the towel fall to the floor with his shorts before he ran the water and then stepped back in the full-length mirror he had behind the door to look closely at his nude reflection. He looked better, that was certain. He could even see a faint rippling in his abdomen when he moved now and he twisted this way and that, testing to see if it was really true.

"Huh." The little belly he had always nurtured with beer and ale was almost gone now as well. He'd almost entirely cut alcohol from his diet, only letting himself have one or two on the weekend or at a special occasion.

Christ, special occasion...

Again he came back to his problem.

Surlaw was not a picky man. He liked ladies and didn't have any trouble getting dates when he needed them but he wanted to take someone special for the house warming party. Too bad he didn't have anyone special at the moment. He'd taken many different women out after the incident that had sprung up in all the papers and those silly talk shows. The guitarist was bitterly amused to see that the fact he'd pulled a one-night stand with someone made girls want him more, not less. He never called them back if they asked about that or if they mentioned Elly on the first date. Unfortunately, that meant he'd never called anyone back.

"Nosy little wenches," he growled angrily as he stepped into the shower. The water trickled down his body, beading up on the little patch of hair right in the middle of his chest like it always did. He scrubbed vigorously and rinsed off, blowing water through the shower stream in exasperation. As usual, the shower had produced a reaction in his lower body. He normally took care of his personal business here, since it was easier to clean. No mess, it just swirled down the drain with all the rest of the dirt and grime that came off or out of him. This time he ignored his needs, however. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

As he grabbed a towel from the rack nearby he decided to call Julian after all. Maybe he'd have some ideas. The rangy young drummer was more adventuresome than he was and that might be what he needed right now.

"No, mom, really," Bastian grated from between clenched teeth. He was pacing the condo's deck, holding his cell phone to his ear and trying to keep his composure. He'd come outside because he didn't want Elly to hear this argument. She'd been under so much stress lately he wouldn't want to pile any more on. He paused to listen. The musician's face grew blacker as he did and finally he snapped something so short and clipped it didn't seem to even come from his lips. He might stumble with his other language when he was around his mother when he was uncomfortable, but the truth was if he didn't think about what he wanted to say it came naturally. She'd taught him well.

And in this case she had taught him too well.

Elly heard him even though he'd tried to distance himself. She slid the glass door aside and stared at him with wide eyes as he swore and said goodness only knows what else. To her it was a long string of violent and incomprehensible Japanese, strangled out of him before he snapped the phone closed. He curled his fist about it, looking like was ready to hurl it to the ground, then stopped and closed his eyes. She watched him take several deep breaths.

"Damn it," he growled. "God damn it!"

"Bastian?"

"Elly." He took a deeper breath and made another visible effort to calm himself, rolling his shoulders back and trying to let the tension dissolve. "I didn't want you to hear that. I'm sorry."

"I've only heard you angry like that a few times." She didn't mention that every time had been when someone had been hurting or mocking her but she got the feeling it had happened again. Nothing else appeared to fluster the young man as much as that.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I didn't want my parents to visit. They want to come to the house warming party."

"They're your folks, shouldn't they?" She stepped closer to him and laid a gentle hand on his arm. He shrugged it off without even thinking and then gasped when she looked hurt.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

"You're upset. It's okay, that's allowed."

"No, oh no. Not when I start doing that it's not." He gathered her in his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. "That part of me is really crappy, love. I sort of wanted to keep it hidden from you. Bad idea, I know."

"You're not perfect. None of us are." She shrugged. "I still love you, you know." He smiled and stroked her back.

"I hope so. I'm not a nice guy when it comes to my folks. They're... cruel. I don't know if they mean it or not but it doesn't fucking matter if it hurts, does it?"

"Are they coming then?"

"I'll have to call back," he grimaced. "After I cool off. Mom was jabbering all this crap at me and, well. It's her this time, not dad. She was angry at the guest list."

Elly raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

"She didn't want to have certain people there, that's all." Bastian was being evasive and she saw right through it.

"Hmm. This might be a good time to bring this up. What does..." She frowned, blushing and trying to enunciate to get it as close to what she had heard as possible. "O- otoko taraki mean?" His entire body tensed so rigidly she drew away from him to stare into his flushed and angry face.

"'Otoko tarashi?"

"That, yes."

"Who said that to you? Did she call you that?"

"I - I shouldn't have brought it up," she said in a tiny voice. "I probably got it wrong. It was something else, maybe. Remember, I don't speak Japanese!"

"That's why she's using it against you," he hissed. "Did she call you that?" His eyes were like glittering ice, frozen little daggers. She could see his jaw rippling as he bared his teeth like an animal.

"You're too angry," she whispered.

"Not angry enough. Did she? Answer me!" He placed his hands on her shoulders and spoke louder in a more commanding tone. When she flinched he winced and tried another tactic. "Please, baby, please. I need to know. If she called you that she's bringing up things that are very wrong. You want to know why I'm upset?"

"Yes."

He sighed and ran a shaking hand through his dark hair, his fingers gripping the silky strands like a claw as he struggled with his rage. "She doesn't want Surlaw to be invited. Mom really likes tabloid magazines, see ... and worst thing is she believes them. That's why she doesn't like you."

"Wh - what?"

"God, I'm so sorry," he broke down, catching her in a rough embrace. "I love you so much, Elly. What she said - if she said it to you, at you -- it means 'playgirl'. She thinks you're using me. That you're still fucking him." He spat the word out so crudely that she blinked.

"What!"

"I know you're not, love, but isn't that what all the juicier gossip mags say? That you keep going back to him? She's just convinced it's true."

"But..."

"No buts. You're upset," he said sadly. "I fucked up. I knew she would be a bitch. I knew it. And I let her. I should have just invited dad and put up with his gay jokes and all that shit."

"She thinks I'm ...?"

"I shouldn't have even said anything," he groaned.

"I would never ch- cheat on you." Elly spoke numbly and he looked down at her, frowning. She was staring blankly at his chest, her eyes filled with tears. "I thought everyone that saw us together could tell. How many people think I'm a sluh-slut? How many think I don't love you?"

Bastian grew very still. He bent and picked her up without saying anything, letting her cry on him as he opened the door and stepped inside. She clung to him in that way she had when she was upset, reminding him of a hurt child and instilling in him the need to protect her from everyone, including herself.

"She doesn't have to come to our house, not ever," he told her quietly as he laid her in bed. "And it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks! Even her."

"Your own mother!" He joined her and immediately rolled on top of her shaking body, enveloping her in himself, his love and presence like a warm blanket. He kissed her lips and placed a hand over her heart.

"I love you, I know you love me," he soothed.

"Maybe she's just jealous? Bastian?" She pleaded with him for a reason, for anything. To be rejected by a mother again was too much. And he'd failed her. His fiancée depended on him so much and he'd screwed up just like his parents said he would, expected he would. Always said he would. He dropped his head to her chest and cried. His family was so fucked up and he was so afraid he would be like them. He was vaguely aware of her hands on him, massaging his neck. He finally laid his cheek to one side, gasping for air.

"God, I'm so scared. Everything is right here, so perfect. Everything they always said, everything everyone said I'd never have. It's right here. Right here!" He grasped weakly at the bedsheets and she caught his clammy hand in hers.

"Let's just do it," she blurted out.

"What?"

"Get married. We can get it done at the courthouse. We can have the wedding later for show."

"Y- you mean...?" He picked his head up, startled.

"No paparazzi," she pointed out.

"No parents," he marveled. His clear blue eyes shone with admiration.

"We've both been too crazy worrying about it. Maybe if we're already married it'll be easier. Just a party to celebrate, you know?"

"Yes," he breathed. "I - I'll go online right now and see what we have to do. How fast we can have it done." Bastian shook his head, hair swinging about his forehead as he stared down at her in awe. "Baby, you're amazing."

She smiled at him, her face still wet from her tears. He laughed and pressed his mouth to hers in an uncharacteristically rough kiss. When they parted he slid off the bed, pelting towards his laptop with such haste she covered her mouth to stifle her own wild laughter.

Elly giggled wickedly as she raced through the parking lot with her fiance hot on her heels. They were going out to see a movie and as always, "date night" seemed to spark the worst in her. She'd teased Bastian the whole way there in the car, flirting outrageously until he'd threatened to pull the car over and take her right on the side of the road.

"Get back here, you tease!" He grinned and caught her in his arms before she reached the steps. Ignoring the amused (and some annoyed) looks they were getting from the other movie goers he spun her around before kissing her soundly on the lips.

"My man," she said complacently.

"Hell yes." He tugged a little on the cap he was wearing, making sure it didn't pop loose. Not that they hated talking to fans in general but to be prodded in the back in a theater sucked. Especially when he was trying to sneak a kiss. It always made him blush so hard. It would have been easier to sneak in undetected if they were quiet but bottling themselves up had never worked well. Thus it was that several minutes into the ticket purchase he grimaced as a man with a camera popped up from behind one of the cardboard displays. Elly palmed her ticket and groaned.

"Oh snap," she murmured. He snickered despite himself.

"Exactly."

"Pffff." She elbowed him and took her hat off. "Screw it then. We're already discovered. Plus I hate these things."

"Gahhh," he put up a hand but it was too late, the hat was crammed in her purse. Bastian shook his head. "I know that one," he told her. "We might regret this." But he also removed his cap and shook his trademark hair out so it fell over the side of his face. The movie was great and no one really disturbed them until they were leaving. They expected it so it wasn't that bad. Bastian did have his misgivings about the paparazzi that had gotten the shots in, and it turned out he was right. A few days later Elly was peeking through the stack of tabloids in the studio's break room when she found the photos.

"Again? Why does everyone hate me so much?!"

Julian looked up in surprise from the couch. "Wha?" He'd been balancing an empty soda can on his nose and it clanked to the floor. "Ah, crap."

"This damned article is all about how I was a bitch at the movies. How I treated everyone like shit." She flung it down in disgust. "I didn't do anything they say I did."

Julian reached down and picked it up. "Oh man, not a good pic," he winced. She'd been squinting or something and she looked either pissed off.

"That just makes it look worse! Everyone has bad pictures taken where they make silly faces. But if I get one that looks bad they make me out to be an evil whore." She threw herself down in Bastian's chair and crossed her arms.

"Aw." The drummer wrinkled his nose. "You know why they do it."

"No!" She huffed. "I don't. I don't get it."

"We've got a lot of female fans. Some get jealous, they wanna read that you're a bitch." He shrugged.

"Well, it sucks."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

"Yeah. It also sucks when you don't get the attention." He rolled his green eyes. "You're all gettin' all this coverage, and Wolf's getting more too. Me? I'm the drummer. We're back-burner shit."

"Awwww, Julie." Elly turned to face him. "Is that how you feel?"

"You flip moods faster than any woman I know, Rabbit." He grinned at her boyishly.

"I've been like that lately," she agreed. They glanced over as the door squeaked faintly and her face lit up immediately. "Hi honey."

"What's up?" Bastian strolled over, hands in his black jean pockets. He was wearing a simple red shirt, open at the front like usual but it was tucked in. The jeans were adorned with a silver belt buckle that had been hammered into the shape of a bat. His friend peered at him for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"You look like a vampire!"

He smirked. "I'll try not to bite."

"Els is all pissed off at this." He tossed him the magazine and she slunk back into the chair. Bastian scanned the article for a moment, frowning.

"That's totally not my style," Elly grumbled. "I wouldn't treat people like they were servants. That's what it says I did."

"Oh, love," Bastian laughed out loud. "I think you just gave me an idea." He reached into a tight pants pocket and took out his cell phone. She watched curiously for a few moments as he texted something. He didn't tell her what he was planning but later that night he poked her gently on the shoulder and suggested they go to a club.

"Which one?"

"I have the perfect one." He paused. "Wear something you won't mind getting pictures taken in."

"And if I ask why, you'll say 'trust me', right?"

"Am I that transparent?"

"Yep."

When they reached the club it was packed more than usual. Elly blinked at the throng of people lined up at the door; most had their cell phones out and were either talking animatedly or holding them up as cameras.

"Bastian, you told people we'd be here, didn't you?"

The musician pursed his lips and whistled a little bird call. "I tweeted about it."

"Oh, Bastian." She held her face in her hands.

"Trust me. This is my response to all that trash they've been talking about you. I don't approve of it, and I'm going to slap some faces...in a subtle way, of course." They got out of the car and gave the keys to the man waiting for them. Bastian placed a comfortable arm around her and they walked slowly into the club waving to everyone as they went. They caused quite a stir as it was clear he was absolutely smitten with his fiancée. He even bent over at one point in full view of the prominent cameras to nuzzle at her neck. The inside was even more packed if that was possible, with people crammed into booths and stools all along the bar. Ricky's band was playing onstage, a local favorite around the area. They were ushered through by the bouncer and Bastian climbed up beside his friend, pulling Elly up after him.

"'Sup, kid," Ricky growled into the mic. There was laughter and some hooting - he was only a year older than Bastian but he always knocked on him about it.

"Nothing, you old bastard," Bastian replied cheerfully. This caused so much ruckus that they had to wait several minutes before the crowd calmed down again. Rick handed him the mic and he sat on the stool that was pushed over to him.

"Hey, where am I ... oh. Thanks!" Elly caught the next chair and sat gratefully.

"Ohhh," Bastian drawled happily. Nervous titters filled the room from those holding video cameras or phones up to record this. "It looks like people are taping me. I can't stop that, can I?" His smile was nothing shy of scandalous. Ricky drew a circle over his head in an obvious halo reference. Elly giggled along with the audience.

"Anyway," he went on, "We just wanted to show that we love our fans." He winced at the roar of approval. "Ah, god, my ears - wait. Is that it?" There was more cheering and he laughed.

"Rick," he called out then, "you have that other thing I asked for?" A shiny object was passed up to him and he took it in one hand. "I came out to play a song with my pal here. You ready?"

"As ever," he called out. He'd taken his guitar in both hands and the rest of his band waved and nodded. Elly raised an eyebrow.

"I feel like a decoration," she admitted helplessly. There were cheers and not a few catcalls that made her blush. Bastian squinted at the crowd, jokingly shaking his fist. He held up the object to the mic and that's when Elly realized it was a harmonica. She blinked.

He plays that too?!

He leaned over and winked at the drummer, who began the beat even as he blew air into the instrument, causing it to wail expertly. She was even more surprised when she heard him sing.

Oh, the song was perfect. Billy Joel's "That's Not Her Style," a perfect jibe at all the tabloids that had been slamming her lately. Bastian roughened his voice, not mimicking the original singer but giving it the push the song required. He was forceful, staring intently at the crowd that he knew was filled with tons of recording devices. Before long videos would be all over the internet, a perfect comeback because he'd made it seem so innocent. They did play with Ricky's band from time to time. The fact that he'd slipped a head's up guaranteed that this would be more widespread than any of the other hasty recordings though. She laughed and took the tambourine that was handed her. At least she didn't feel like she was on display as much even if she was.

Halfway through he turned and smiled at her, sweating under the stage lights with love in his eyes and a little wicked twinkle. She winked at him and mouthed 'I love you'. He winked back.

Elly took a deep breath. She held a key in her hand as they walked out of the bank to Bastian's car that she never thought she would. He was grinning openly as he swung the door open for her.

"You want to go right there?"

"Yeah," she said. She couldn't take her eyes off the little piece of metal. As he bundled her into the car and drove out towards their new house she was silent and he let her be. He knew she was happy, he could see it in her dark eyes. That was everything for now; later there would be a marriage, children, a family. But it all started with this big step they had just taken and Bastian wisely chose not to interrupt her musings until they drove up to the huge iron gate a half an hour later.

Elly jerked as if out of a sound sleep and he laughed softly, brushing his hand on hers.

"It's all right, love. We're home."

"How - how do we get in when no one's inside?"

"The gate unlocks with a code." He got out and dug inside his pocket for an index card with the number written on it. The gate swung open and he hurriedly climbed back in the car and drove through. Elly raised an eyebrow. "It closes automatically after a couple minutes."

"Ohhhh." She looked up at the huge place, trying to adjust her conception of home to this new house instead of the much smaller condo they had lived in for a year and a half. He parked right outside instead of using one of the garages and dashed over to her door to open it for her. A small breeze whipped her gray hair around her face and when she smiled up at him he thought his heart would likely break. He didn't speak but reached down and picked her up.

"Bastian!"

"Oh, hush." He bounced up the steps to the doors, his own key appearing in his hand as he went. "I'm supposed to do this, remember?" He unlocked them with a flourish and took a deep breath as they opened.

"Bastian?"

"Yes, love?" He stepped inside, his mellow voice throbbing with held-in mirth.

"It smells like you." Her mouth dropped open. "You were here before...?"

"Wait for it." He carried her easily past the foyer and hall into the living room. A massive heap of quilts and pillows were arranged artfully before the burning fireplace with a bucket standing off to the side holding some sort of wine or champagne, no doubt. There were also two vases of roses nearby.

I should have known, she thought to herself. She watched him fuss with the blankets for a moment, feeling closer to him than ever.

"You always go overboard!"

"You love it." He winked at her and she giggled.

"It's - it's all so big and empty," Elly marveled half to herself as she looked around the huge room. It appeared even more so with only a small part covered with items. Bastian smiled at her and held out his hand.

"No," he told her gently. "It's full of love. Come here and let me show you..."

"Damn it, Bast," she laughed ruefully, wiping at her eyes with one hand as she sat on the mountain of cushions. "You always make the simplest thing sound so romantic."

"Everything is simple, my love. And besides," he went on with a smirk twisting his lips, "If I go a day without telling you how I feel it gets bottled up. You wouldn't want that, now would you?" He took his boots off and sighed.

"Heaven forbid."

"Welcome home," he whispered, stroking her cheek gently as he lay beside her. His long legs were stretched out with his feet towards the crackling flames. She noticed he was wiggling his toes contentedly and she grinned.

"I never had a real home." Her eyes shone with love and he found himself fascinated anew by their dark blue, almost purple color.

"I know."

"So quiet now?" Elly placed a finger on his lips and he glanced up, surprised. The finger pad traced them and she ran lower, stroking his neck and taking hold of the knife sliver he still wore. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back.

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"Me too." She rubbed the silver shard and sighed.

"Nothing bad, right?" His mouth parted as she began to gently rub his chest.

"No, not at all. I was just wondering about after the wedding. I mean, the party. Not the legal stuff."

"Hmm," he chuckled lowly. "I'll endeavor to be as thorough as possible that night, good lady."

"Silly," she chided him. "I meant later, later." She groaned. "That's not very clear is it."

"You want to talk about kids, don't you." He reached out and grasped her hand in his, propping himself up on his other elbow to look down at her. "You never did that much before."

"We're getting married," Elly reminded him airily. "I think it's safe to discuss things."

"I do love you," he laughed, catching her in an embrace and pulling her on top of him on the quilt. She squealed and pretended to fight him for a few seconds, surrendering all of a sudden and laying her head on his chest.

"I want some time together before we start a family, that's all I know. But I have an idea."

"Oh? This sounds good. I like the way you're looking at me, baby. Keep going." He kissed her neck, moving her elf locks away from the skin. Elly shivered and continued despite his growing distractions.

"Mmm, well how about we stop using condoms on our honeymoon? And then if anything happens while I'm on the pill we can just... Bastian Libache!"

"You breathily screamed, my love?"

"I thought you wanted to talk about this."

"We are."

"Your hands are talking, then?" She arched her back as he squeezed her behind, pushing her into him.

"You're listening, aren't you?" He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry. I know what you're getting at and it sounds fine with me. Great, even. Leave it up to fate before we decide to try seriously? It's romantic."

"You have something else on your mind, don't you, Bast?"

"Oh yes. What I really want to talk about is our day at the court house."

"Did you get that?" Her eyes widened.

"I made an appointment, yes." Bastian rubbed her back playfully. "How does this Friday sound?"

"Oh my god!"

"That happy, huh?" He wrinkled his nose and she smacked him on the shoulder.

"That fast? How much do we have to pay? Did they say what we had to do?"

"Whoa, whoa!" He rolled with her on the floor, laughing again as she pelted him with questions. "Yes, a measly fifty dollars, the judge asks us a few questions - you know the answer, I hope -- and we get it notarized." He paused for effect. "And then you'll be Mrs. Elly Libache," he purred seductively, kissing the side of her neck.

"That fast!"

"Not as fast as how quickly I'll get you back here." He chuckled. "I hope we can have the bed moved before then."

Although Bastian had made the appointment for them to get married at the courthouse, they'd had to postpone it for some time. Neither one was pleased but both had to admit the lawyers were right - the prenuptial agreement had to be worked out. And so it was that they spent a few days hammering out things that to them seemed so very easy and even ridiculous at times. They finally put their collective foot down as a couple and firmly told both lawyers that they were finished. And it was with much relief and some apprehension that they were driving towards the courthouse this sunny spring day, mere hours before their house warming party. The winter had been spent in preparation, both for the house and the wedding gala that would take place shortly during the summer month of June - Elly's birth month. They'd agreed to get married beforehand so that nothing could disrupt the ceremony then (paparazzi, crazy fans, who knew what else) but both were nervous anyway.

"It had to be today," Elly sighed.

"Of course!" Bastian laughed wryly. "Don't worry, hon. I know you wanted to make the food yourself but the catering place will do fine. We have more than enough time to get there, get married..." He wiggled a little on the seat as he said this, "and back before everyone starts arriving."

"I think we should have told the rest of the band."

Bastian sighed as he pulled around the corner of the courthouse. He'd circled a few times to make sure no one was following them but it looked safe. No one attacked the car as they crunched over the pavement into a parking space, anyway. That was a good sign.

"You know why we didn't. Let's not ruin the day by bringing it up." Elly grimaced and ran a hand through her hair. She privately thought he was right but that didn't make her feel less guilty that her best friend didn't know what was going on. Her husband-to-be muttered something to himself as he stuck his hand in his pocket for his wallet, a momentary look of worry flickering in his bright blue eyes.

"What was that?"

"I thought I didn't have the money." Bastian felt sheepish. "I know, you do if I don't. I'm old-fashioned this way. I'd like to pay for the legal work myself." He brushed his white bangs aside and pointed towards the glove compartment.

"Hats." She grinned and took them out.

"Sunglasses, too." He grunted when he slipped his on. "This might sound silly, but there's no time I feel more like a celebrity when we're trying to hide it."

"Shall we?"

"Let's."

They got in and out without any incident. Both were amazed at the quick and efficient manner - somewhat brutal -- way weddings were taken care of at the courts. Sitting back in his car a quarter of an hour later he turned to her and laughed.

"Thank god we got that out of the way. I'll enjoy our wedding even more now."

"I know," she marveled, amazed. "'Fork down the cash. Do you? Okay, do you? Done.' What the hell. I thought it was... more than that!"

"Not complaining," he murmured as he pulled out and began driving them home. "I'm happy as hell right now! It was just weird."

"Mmm hmm."

"Finally, though," he murmured, "I'm complete."

"What was that?"

He grinned. "The usual, you know. I'll save it for later when we're alone after the party."

"Oh god, the party." She perked up in the seat as they pulled up to the house, clicking the gates open for them to drive through. "We'll have to leave the gates open for the caterer."

"Uh huh, it'll be fine. Nobody's interviewed us at the house yet. I don't think anyone realizes where we are. This is just another house out here with the others."

"Just another 'house'," she giggled faintly as they drove around the circular driveway to the several-car garage.

"Well, you know what I mean!"

An hour later the caterer had been there and gone; Elly remained to look after the seating arrangements and make sure everything was to her liking. Bastian peeked downstairs to see where she'd gotten to.

Aha.

A faint clinking sound told him where he would find her and he bounced noiselessly down the flight of stairs to the ground floor. He slipped back into the kitchen where she was fussing over the food and jumped her from behind.

"Oh my god, don't do that!"

"Got your attention, didn't I?" He chuckled and nibbled on the side of her neck. "Heyyyy, your hair is getting longer. Are you going to get it cut soon?"

"Mmm, maybe in a couple... eek!" He'd pinched her. Elly swished around and regarded her brand-new husband. While she had thrown on a light sundress, the pale man was dressed in a simple black t-shirt with text that read "Bassists do it low" in white and his favorite worn-in jeans. Nothing fancy. She blinked.

"I like the dress," he said quietly.

"Oh, really?"

"Of course. You look all homey and stuff." He ducked when she flung a slice of cucumber at him, laughing. "Ack! I meant it makes you look 'wifey'. That's all."

Tears came to her eyes for a moment and she laughed, dashing them away with the back of her hand. "I can't believe we're married."

"I hope you can hold onto that for awhile, love," he told her in amusement, "otherwise we won't be able to fool anyone."

"I think I can manage."

"Good."

"For a few hours, anyway." She giggled faintly at his openly lustful expression.

"I think that's my time limit," he agreed blandly.

Surlaw Themai was no fool.

Not in the general sense of the word, anyway, he amended to himself. He'd done the dumbest thing of his life and he was still regretting it. But that didn't make him blind to the fact that something was going on with "rock and roll's hottest couple".

He put down the magazine he'd been reading in disgust, shaking his head at the tag-lines.

The crap they printed nowadays...

The damned thing was right, though. Something else besides wedding preparations had been on their minds lately. Had to be. He knew Elly well and she was distracted. The pale singer kept flicking her eyes over his way when she thought he wasn't watching and she sometimes cast them down when he spoke with her. This wall hadn't been there when they had been friends before. She refused to come out and tell him what was wrong and that meant he wasn't going to like it. It meant it was big. Nonetheless, Surlaw stood everything as patiently as possible until one day they broke off whatever they'd been laughing about when he entered the sound room. Irritated, he ripped his worn fedora off and tossed it on a chair.

"That's it, mates," he drawled sarcastically. "No more of this shit. What is going on?" He saw their faces cloud over and grunted. "No?"

"Bast -" Elly's eyes were wide and touched with concern. That might have been the worst part of it, the desperate worry he saw in those dark eyes. It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't care about him anymore.

"Yeah, yeah." Bastian hugged her briefly. "I'll do it. Go ahead and wait in the common room with burger boy. He's still stuffing his face, I think." He pulled absently at his black shirt collar, open as usual at the front.

Surlaw bent, pulling one of the chairs the opposite way and folding his arms over the back as he sat. He waited until the singer had closed the door behind her and then spoke. "Well?"

"We told Julie," the bassist shrugged. "We didn't know if you were up to it. It wasn't meant to be - like, an asshole move or anything. Elly didn't want to hurt you."

"Great. I'm prepared for the worst now. What's up?"

"We got married at the courthouse. It's done already." Bastian's stomach twisted in sympathy at the expression that came over the other man's face. He grimaced and held his hands out, palms up. "Sorry, Wolf. We should have told you earlier."

"The less you told, the fewer to spill it to the press." His tone was carefully neutral. He slowly reached out a hand and snagged his hat again, seeking refuge in its shadow.

Bastian nodded helplessly. "Even friends."

"When?"

"Before the house warming party a few weeks ago." He sighed when Surlaw grunted. "Listen, now that it's all out in the open I want to talk to you about something." Bastian took a deep breath and placed a hand on Surlaw's shoulder. "There's something related to you in my will."

"What?"

"If anything happens to me she'll be lost." He paused. "She's brave, but not that brave. You know that as well as I do. She needs someone by her side. I want it to be you."

"Ah, Christ, Bastian!" Surlaw choked violently. The chair he was sitting on scraped along the floor as he jerked his legs in shock. "What the hell!"

"You'd probably do it anyway," he said mildly. "I just wanted to make certain she's always taken care of. The will doesn't give you the right to sell anything or do anything crazy. It just makes sure that she can't do anything when she's not functioning. You'd be the one anyone legal went to. And look after any kids we might have," he added softly.

"Your parents?" The big man desperately cast about. "Relatives..."

"I don't trust them. The only one I do is my grandmother and she's too old. Els doesn't have anyone, you know that. It would be open season for the vultures. Besides, you'll do it right." He didn't add why since it was unnecessary; they both knew.

"But, I -"

"That's why I didn't want to tell you. I'm not trying to be a dick. It sounds like I'm trying to be a dick." He laughed ruefully and flicked his white bangs off his forehead with a toss of his head.

Surlaw set his chin on his hands, folded in front of him now on the chair back. "I have to give her away. Then you want me to sign something that says I get to take her back." His voice was rough.

"Yeah, see why I didn't wanna tell you? Besides, you know that's not it. Julie's a good friend but he doesn't know her that well. It's you, me, or Chas. And I'm not sexist or anything but having a guy around at the time would be better than a girl."

"Yeah."

"Think about it?"

"Yeah." He sniffed and looked to the side. When he spoke it was painful, but he gritted his teeth and forced it out. "All right. Yes. You knew I'd do it."

Bastian gravely shook his hand. "Thanks."

"Yeah."

Bastian looked more pale then usual as he walked along in the giant mall with Elly that night. The place seethed with life, from quiet couples to screaming kids tagging along with their harried parents in tow. He shook his head.

"Bad idea," he groaned.

"Not the mall, just your choice of food, right?" Elly grinned as he slung an arm around her. "We can get you some Tums or something from that CVS over there, it's okay."

"I knew I shouldn't have ordered Mexican." Bastian made a face as he covered his mouth with his free hand. She giggled faintly and tugged a little on her baseball cap as they walked in. They grabbed some heartburn pills and meandered slowly to the counter where there was a small line. Elly's eyes glanced down over the tabloids as she always did to see if they were mentioned and she blinked.

"What?"

"Hmm?" He followed her pointing finger and saw the headline: Days left before their marriage, Bastian Libache caught cheating!

"That's just sick," she said sadly.

He also stopped and frowned a little. They'd never been really attacked before - sure, the press wasn't always truthful and they had said some horrible things but this struck at the core of his very nature. He slipped his arm from about her and picked it up, his sea-water eyes widening further when he saw the photo under the headline.

"That rat bastard!" he suddenly snarled angrily. The couple in front of him turned around, eyebrows raised, but he didn't notice. "He sold these for a quick buck!"

"Of?" She leaned forward and pursed her lips. "Oh, my."

"Um." He suddenly coughed. The line moved and they absently stepped up as he fidgeted nervously before his wife. The photos clearly showed him and another guy in a fairly compromising position and he wasn't sure how she would handle it. She suddenly laughed and placed a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry, geez."

"But..."

"In a few days from now this will be exposed as a lie. Besides, that was then, as you're so fond of saying."

"Yeah, but..." He sighed and held onto it as they stepped up to the register. "We're buying this. I want to make sure I have it when I confront that idiot. This is ridiculous."

"Okay, but I think it's silly." She paused. "Hot, though. Maybe I can get some eight by tens blown up."

"Hey!"

After they exited the store they noticed the couple that had been in front of them was watching them closely. The female was rummaging through a music store bag, clearly excited which meant she'd probably guessed who they were. Her boyfriend or husband looked slightly embarrassed but intrigued all the same.

"I think we blew our cover, baby," he chuckled. "I hope Jeff doesn't freak if we talk to them."

"He'll be good." She looked over her shoulder at the unobtrusive guard trailing them. "We had a long talk about fans versus fanatics the other day. Besides, that's what you hired him for, right? He's paid to be suspicious."

The man stepped up first with an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry for my girlfriend staring, but she insists that you're..."

"Yeah, I know." Elly chuckled. "Just don't say it too loud or you'll piss off our body guard."

"Holy shit." He blinked. "I thought she was just crazy." He grunted faintly as she flicked him in the arm. "I didn't think you actually did all this: the disguises and everything."

"I was wondering about the disguises," she said breathlessly. "Is that what you have to do all the time?"

"Only when we're in public," Elly said wryly.

"We weren't going around announcing who we were on this trip," Bastian agreed. The man was looking at Elly in a way she was accustomed to but still not comfortable with. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders rather possessively. It gave her a warm little glow to see that he still acted that way after all this time and she rested her head on his arm for a moment. When they finally parted and began to walk off their separate ways Bastian squeezed her lightly against him.

"Y'know, they all know we're m - ah, getting married," he grumped, "but every time one of those idiots starts undressing you with his eyes right in front of me I want to just slap the shit out of him."

"Eh. The girls do it to you, too."

"And you're telling me the last time you didn't snap and snarl for a half hour afterward?" Elly ducked her head and he laughed.

"All right, all right. Look, let's forget it. Let's go in there." She glanced up at the gallery shop of a famous painter. "I wanted to see if we could get a piece of his for the living room."

The gallery was romantically dark with the paintings lit in many aesthetically pleasing ways. They wandered briefly around, chatting about their favorites for awhile until Elly glanced around in irritation.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"Isn't there a clerk here or something? Oh, wait, there she is - but she's going off to talk to that other woman that just wandered in." She made a face. "We've been here longer."

Bastian took one look at the other woman and realized what the problem was. He muffled a slightly derisive chuckle. "We're not dressed fancy enough."

"Oh, for the love of... are you serious?" Her dark eyes stared up at him incredulously. He nodded.

"Plus we have baseball caps on with ratty wigs and we probably look shabby as hell. I know, that was the point, but they probably think we're just looking and can't afford anything."

Elly grumbled about that a bit. "I almost don't want one now."

"Ah, no problem, sweetheart," he told her firmly. He took her hand and walked over to the clerk, who had been shooed off by the richer-dressed lady and looked disappointed. "Nice music," he mentioned in an offhand sort of way.

The older woman seemed taken aback. "I - I like the violin in this piece," she admitted.

"Did you ever see anything played live? Maybe at the Musical Theater at all?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed, her eyes lighting up. "I was there when Bastian Libache performed the famous Czardas by Monti," she said proudly. Elly suddenly had to cover her own mouth to stifle a fit of giggles. When she'd gotten herself under control she poked her husband in the arm.

"You never told me you played the violin, too," she accused. "You never told me how many you play at all. It's almost like everything!"

"One of these days we'll pick up some instruments and I'll show you," he promised. The clerk's eyes widened, much like the younger couples had some time before. Bastian looked around, confirmed that Jeff was hanging around as usual and no one was in the shop at the moment, then took off his hat. He shook his hair down so it laid in front of his eye like it always did.

"That's always such a relief," he admitted. "I hate pushing my hair off my face. It feels wrong."

Elly nodded as she also removed her hat. Her gray hair shimmered in the lamplight. "It makes you look strange, too."

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh, dear," the clerk said faintly. "I'm sorry for not being more attentive. It's just that - well -- we've gotten a lot of people that come in just to look, so we sort of ignore anyone that doesn't..."

"It's all right," he laughed easily. "It gave us time to talk about which painting we liked best."

After chatting for awhile with the now-polite clerk they bought an ocean scene they had both fallen in love with.

"This will go great in the little room before the pool," Bastian mused as he wrote their address down for delivery. "I've never owned an original anything before. Kind of exciting."

"I know," she grinned. "and it's not the only thing I'm excited about." He hugged her tightly before cramming her hat down on her head again. Elly snorted and pushed his bangs off his face in retaliation.

"Ughhh."

While Bastian and Elly were picking home furnishings, Surlaw was pondering a much more difficult matter. 

He had to have a date for the wedding.

It would be open pickings for the reporters if he showed up without a date as he gave away the woman he still loved. They were already having a field day with his grief, he shouldn't make it worse.

Although he never openly showed emotion that could damage him in public anymore, it nonetheless got around. He hadn't dated in a long while because he didn't want to. The last time he'd been with any female he'd just gotten drunk and slept with her, much to his dismay. Why bother? Why did he need to? Surlaw despised the press. He'd never really had that much fun when people constantly dogged his steps and now that they were famous, he had someone watching him almost all the time. He could - and did -- disguise himself much like the others did when they went out but his sideburns usually gave him away. Thick and shaggy, they had a life of their own and were very easily recognizable. The big man sighed as he glanced in the bathroom mirror. Chas had even suggested makeup at one point but it hadn't worked. He envied Julian. All that ass had to do was wash off his makeup and no one knew it was him. Grumbling to himself he decided that if he took off his hat if might work the same way. People were so used to seeing him with the battered fedora on that it might just have a reverse effect. He took some time brushing out his wild brown hair and then shook his head and ran his hand through it a few times.

Better.

His life was moving on. The apartment he lived in had been cleaned up; the shelves were a new addition where he stored things like sheet music instead of jamming it someplace on the floor under something else that was heavier to hold it down. The carpet could actually be seen for the first time in months and there weren't any signs of beer cans or bottles in evidence anywhere. Everything looked better, including his body, but he still felt like shit inside. Only a few days and he'd have to walk down the aisle with Elly and give her away to another man, one he worked with and saw almost every day. He knew it was happening; he knew he wasn't over her as well. As he moved about the rooms, gathering up what he'd need for the day he also knew that this would pass. When Bastian had first started taking her out he'd been furious but he'd gotten better eventually. It was just a matter of time getting used to things.

"Stupid." He flipped his cell phone open and started scrolling through women's numbers. There were enough to choose from, god knew, he just had to find someone that wasn't too clingy.

As the weeks skipped by towards the wedding everyone was feeling excited and the happy couple more than a little nervous. But as all big days do, it eventually arrived. The day dawned clear, though a little cloudy, but that was all right since the ceremony was to be held outdoors on the beach behind Zero's studio. Tablecloths were held down by elaborate arrangements of seashells and more than one pavilion had been set up. Inside one gaily striped tent with a closed flap that the wedding party was getting ready.

"Are you sure that my parents weren't causing trouble? With anyone? Anything?" Bastian glanced around nervously past two of his friend's bodies. Julian glanced at Ricky, a guy he'd only met once before at the proposal concert, and shrugged. He grinned back, a mischevious gleam in his eyes.

"Getting pre-marriage jitters, kid?"

The dark-haired bassist glared at him sourly. "You've met my folks before. I have a legitimate concern that they'll fuck this up."

"Don't worry." He reached out and tugged on the groom's black kimono. "Your mom was happy enough that you chose to wear your monty suit."

Julian snickered.

"Montsuki," Bastian corrected absently. He glanced over at the side table where the jacket lay, neatly folded with a pair of light sandals on top. He wriggled his bare feet and smiled faintly at the thought of what his bride would think of his outfit; he had told her but she'd never seen him dressed up like this before. Come to think of it, he didn't know what she was wearing, either. He'd chosen not to peek although he'd had the opportunity quite a few times. There was effeminate giggling from behind the cloth partition seperating them and he rolled his eyes. The suspense was killing him. A light scratch on the tent flap caused Ricky to veer over and answer it. There was a pause, then the last member of their party ducked inside with a muffled oath. Surlaw looked uncomfortable without a hat. His hand kept wandering to his unruly hair to toss it off his brow in irritation. "You can bloody well pick a location, can't you," he grumbled. "That wind is annoying as hell."

"Is it bad?"

"Eh." He shook his head. "Just irritating." He seemed to think better of it and then chuckled. "You've never seen so many ladies trying to keep their skirts down out there." Julian stared at him for a moment, then dashed out of the tent.

Elly and Bastian never really did remember most of that day. Most of it was hazy at best, a fog of romantic flowers, vows and kisses. Bastian's gaze as she walked down the path down to him was as adoring as hers was, erasing all thought from them both at a single glance. And of course neither heard the man who spoke for some length before they were pronounced man and wife. They listened vaguely, but they couldn't recall what was said later on.

Everything went well. After the rocky road the stars had been through to find each other, it only seemed fitting. When they began the reception the groom seemed nervous. Surlaw had been well-behaved during the ceremony, but there was still one more thing he had to be put through. Bastian didn't want to include him in yet another painful moment, yet he knew everyone was expecting this. He sighed and slipped onto the dance floor with his diminutive mother. As the man that gave her away, the guitarist was the one Elly would be with. The brown-haired man stood and silently held his hand out to her.

And so they danced.

Surlaw's face was carefully set in an unreadable expression he'd practiced for hours. It was just right, he thought: that kind of "melancholy happy" single people always wore during such occassions. They danced, and although his face was neutral Elly felt the trembling in his cold hands, so carefully and properly placed on her upper back.

"Thanks for giving me away," she said softly.

His mouth quirked. "No problem, you know. We're friends, right?" He paused, and she noticed that he wouldn't meet her gaze. She reached up and lightly touched his cheek with a fond hand. Though he could still the rest of his facial expressions, he couldn't control his eyes.

"Yes. We are."

"Good." He lifted his chin as the music came to a slow stop. Bastian handed his mother off to her waiting husband. "Be happy," Surlaw told her gently before letting her go. He watched her glide across the floor to her husband and sighed, still smiling faintly. The band was still together - and more than together -- and he'd even become friends with this idiot that had married her. If that was possible, than anything was, Surlaw relflected. His smile grew a little more genuine.

"Well?" Bastian asked as he grasped her about the waist. His seawater eyes conveyed only light concern. Today wasn't a day for worrying; it was the best day of his life.

Elly considered this for a moment, eyes shining as she stared into her husband's face. "I'm happy," she finally whispered with an answering smile.


End file.
